#I'll make to sure to stop focusing on backgrounds for conversation

[eclipses-corruption]

the bushes are a pretty colour and it makes me want to eat the leaves. so naturally I'm going to eat the leaves because I have zero self control.

[Wip Wide-shot Image: somwhere in April]

Bursting Petal's

[sevikaswifegurl]

RED FLAG!

Synopsis: What happens when he says that one of his habits is a red flag?

Word count: 2.389

Characters: Carlos Sainz, Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Kimi Antonelli and Lance Strol.

Note: English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance if there are any errors and promise that I will improve the templates

Inspiration: @tsunodaradio please don't curse at me, I swear I looked at your post and thought: "I have to do one like this, I need to" and I love your account, so I was inspired by it, I'm sorry if you feel "invaded" or something like that, if you feel that way let me know and I'll delete the post!

CARLOS S. (CS55)🚩 ⸻ INSTANT TEXT REPLIES

Carlos realizes something's changed when you stop replying so quickly. It’s not a huge absence — not hours, not days. Just long enough for him to notice that now, your messages sit there. Waiting.

Before, it was automatic. He’d barely hit “send” and your reply was already coming in. Sometimes you both typed at the same time, your messages overlapping. It was lighthearted, fun. He laughed, and you used to say you just wanted to make sure he never felt alone.

But after that stupid conversation — just a random night, when he made a thoughtless joke about replying too fast being a red flag — it all stopped. You smiled, but it wasn’t the same. The next morning, you took over twenty minutes to reply to a “good morning.” That had never happened before.

By the third time he notices it, he can’t pretend anymore.

You’re sitting on his bed, rubbing lotion into your hands, lost in your own routine. Carlos is leaning against the doorframe, watching you. And he says it — no warning:

“You stopped replying fast because of me, didn’t you?”

You glance over your shoulder at him, not quite following.

“You said it was a red flag.”

“I was joking.” He folds his arms, stepping closer. “But I think I hurt you.”

You take a deep breath and lower your gaze.

“You laughed at one of the only things I did without thinking. Replying to you quickly… it was never about anxiety. I just liked talking to you.”

Carlos sits beside you. Your shoulders brush.

“I didn’t want you to change that because of me.”

“I know.” You smile, just a little.

“But I thought maybe you didn’t like it as much as I thought you did.”

He takes your hand. Squeezes it gently.

“I loved it. Still do. I stare at my phone like an idiot, waiting for that ‘hey’ two seconds after mine.”

You laugh under your breath. Rest your head on his shoulder.

“Then don’t complain when I go back to being way too fast.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You reach for it, type a reply without even looking. Carlos smiles.

You’re back.

OSCAR P. (OP81)🚩 ⸻ TAKING A GYM MIRROR SELFIE

Oscar never thought something as simple as a gym mirror selfie could mean so much. It was more than just a photo — it was a fragment of your day, a stolen moment between sweat and effort that he could keep and revisit whenever the distance started to weigh heavy.

He loved those pictures. Your hair tied up in any way, sometimes damp, sometimes stuck to your forehead with sweat. The soft gym lighting glowing against the foggy mirror. That crooked little smile you’d give the camera, like you were saying, “I’m here, I’m still going.”

Every photo you sent was like a secret note, a quiet reminder that even far apart, you were connected. He’d check his phone with this ridiculous anticipation, waiting for that one notification that could brighten up the middle of a long day.

Sometimes it was a classic selfie — sports bra on, elbow on your waist. Other times, a short clip of your workout, muffled music in the background, your focused eyes as you pushed through the final rep. The caption could be anything — “almost died,” “PR on leg press,” “barely surviving” — but to him, every word was a precious detail of your routine, your effort, your strength.

And then, one day, the photos just... stopped.

At first, he thought it was just a break. Maybe you were tired, or too focused on training to think about documenting every moment. But what started as a pause turned into silence. The silence became longing, and longing turned into this quiet, aching emptiness he didn’t quite know how to fix.

He missed those images the way he missed your scent when you were apart too long, the way he missed your touch after a bad day. He missed opening his phone and seeing your flushed face, that tired but proud look in your eyes, that visual proof that you were out there, pushing through, winning.

One night, after another full day, he gave in. Picked up his phone, hesitated just for a second, and typed:

“I miss your gym selfies.”

On the other end, you laughed — light, surprised.

“Really? I thought you said that was a red flag.”

He shook his head, even though you couldn’t see him.

“Red flag? Never. I love them. They're my favorite part of the day.”

You went quiet for a second, then your voice came through soft and careful:

“Then why did you say it was?”

Oscar sighed, a little embarrassed.

“I didn’t want to sound weird. I thought it might annoy you.”

“You don’t annoy me” you said, and he could practically hear the smile on your lips.

“Alright. I’ll send you a bunch of selfies. Every time.”

The phone buzzed a minute later.

There you were — hair stuck to your forehead with sweat, cheeks flushed, the gym mirror foggy behind you, a tired but genuine smile lighting up the frame.

Oscar smiled to himself on the couch, holding his phone like it was the most valuable thing in the world.

“Best thing that ever happened to my timeline” he replied, already counting down the minutes until the next one.

From that day on, the gym mirror selfies became a ritual. More than just photos, they were pieces of both your days — invisible threads that held you close through distance and time. Every picture a silent promise: that no matter where you were, you’d find each other — even if just through a screen and a slightly blurry selfie.

And deep down, Oscar knew those photos — so simple, so you — were more than just images. They were the way you stayed close, remembered, loved.

LANDO N. (LN4)🚩 ⸻ LIKING EVERY PHOTO ON HIS SOCIAL MEDIA FEED

You never really thought about it. Liking Lando’s posts was one of those small, automatic things — a reflex. He posted a gym mirror selfie, you liked it. A random selfie in his stories with a ridiculous filter, you liked it. A photo of the car, the track, a random sunset: like. Always.

It wasn’t flattery. It was just... you being there. Present. Saying everything without saying anything.

At first, he thought it was funny. He used to send you screenshots of the notifications, saying “First like as always,” or “Can’t get a second of peace with you online.” It was a joke. Affection disguised as teasing.

Until the video.

You were lying in bed, scrolling aimlessly through your feed, when you saw the title: “F1 Drivers Decide Their Personality Red Flags!” You clicked for entertainment, nothing more — until Lando showed up on screen, cap on, with that look like he was always on the edge of laughing.

“Red flag?” he repeated, thinking. “If you like every photo on my feed… I’ll block you.”

Your stomach twisted. Sure, he laughed after the line. But it was that weird kind of laugh — the one that comes a little late, with a half-look. And it stuck in your mind.

The next post, you hesitated. Scrolled past without hitting the heart. And then you kept doing it. One, two, five posts — no likes from you. Nothing on his stories either. No comments.

Two days later, you were both on the couch, sharing a pizza and watching some random movie neither of you were really paying attention to. He was scrolling through his phone while you queued up the next episode.

“You stopped,” he said, out of nowhere.

You looked over. “What?”

“Liking my photos.” His eyes stayed on the screen, but his voice was more serious than usual.

“You said you’d block me,” you shrugged.

He finally turned his head, raising an eyebrow. “You thought I meant that?”

“It sounded like you did.”

Lando sighed and leaned back against the couch, dropping the phone onto his lap. “It was a joke. I said it smiling.”

“You smiled two seconds after saying it. That’s not the same thing.”

He was quiet for a moment, just looking at you, like he was deciding whether the argument was worth it. Then, softer:

“I liked it. Seeing you there. Liking everything. It made me feel like you were... with me. Even when you weren’t.”

Your chest tightened. You dropped your gaze for a second, until he reached over and laced his fingers with yours.

“If you want to like everything, go ahead,” he said, with a half-smile now. “Just don’t like stuff that’s too old or I’ll know you’re stalking me.”

You laughed, nudging his shoulder. “As if you don’t do worse.”

“I’m discreet.”

“You liked a 2016 photo of mine at three in the morning.”

“I was conducting historical research.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled out your phone. And there, curled up next to him on the couch while he laughed beside you, you opened his profile and liked everything again. One by one.

Even the dumb ones.

Especially the dumb ones.

KIMI A. (KA12) 🚩 ⸻ NOT BEING TAGGED IN A GROUP PHOTO

The photo was taken right after the movies, after a whole Saturday wandering around the mall with the group. You hadn’t thought much about it: just lifted your phone, squeezed everyone into a tight frame, and hit the button before anyone blinked.

The result? Three spontaneous smiles, Giulie’s funny pout, and Kimi in the background, half-hidden behind you, with an expression too neutral for someone who had laughed so much half an hour before.

You posted it as soon as you got home. A simple caption, basic emojis. Tagged those who had replied to your stories on the way back. And went to sleep.

The next day, his notification wakes you up.

Kimi Antonelli commented on your post: “Nice photo. Too bad not everyone was there, huh?”

You don’t get it at first. Only later, reviewing the post, you notice the absence.

You didn’t tag him.

You open the chat without thinking twice.

“It was unintentional.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Kimi, I swear.”

“You even tagged Alessandro, who barely appears.”

You laugh despite the mini panic. Because yes, Alessandro only shows a shoulder and an eyebrow — and yet he got tagged. Kimi, fully there in the background, didn’t.

“Want me to fix it?”

It takes a while. Like three minutes.

“Too late now. Delete it. It looks ugly.”

You drop your phone on the bed. He never says things directly. But you know this tone. Kimi can drive a kart at two hundred an hour, but he feels invisible in a group photo.

In the afternoon, he shows up in front of your house like nothing happened. Old sweatshirt, messy hair, phone in his pocket. But when you open the gate, he just says:

“You forgot me.”

You cross your arms. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.” He puts his hands in his pockets. “But still.”

You stare at each other for a long second.

Then you pull out your phone. “Smile.”

“For what?”

“For a new photo.”

“Just me?”

“No,” you answer, walking over and tugging his sleeve. “Ours.”

He hesitates but smiles — that quiet kind you’re the only one who recognizes. You take the selfie, the two of you in front of your house, with no one else left to forget to tag.

You post it right after, no filter, no caption.

And tag only him.

LANCE S. (LS18) 🚩 ⸻ TAKING A PICTURE OF THE MEAL BEFORE LETTING PEOPLE EAT

Lance realizes it the worst way possible: when it’s already gone.

You’re at a restaurant in Barcelona, and the dish that arrives is too beautiful to just let pass — one of those you’d normally turn to the side, adjust the napkin, and murmur “just a second” while looking for the best angle.

But this time, you just... eat. As if you couldn’t let it go by.

He watches for a moment longer than he should, his own cutlery still resting at the edge of the plate.

“Aren’t you going to take a picture?” he asks, trying to sound casual.

You chew slowly. Give a small, almost shy smile. “You said it was a red flag.”

His fork slips slightly from his hand. “That was a joke.”

“I know.” You shrug. “But you were serious. At least at the time.”

He doesn’t answer. Just pretends the food is still too hot.

Later, with you asleep on his chest, Lance scrolls through the camera roll on your phone. Pictures of everything: your sneakers pressed against the subway, a crooked plant in Vienna, the reflection of you both in some shop window in Milan. But food... no. The last one is weeks ago — pasta with pesto and a glass of white wine. His hand appears in the corner, holding the plate for you.

He feels a silly tightness in his chest. It was just a photo, he thinks. But it was also your way of caring for things. Your way of marking what was beautiful. Of not letting it go unnoticed.

The next morning, you make pancakes. Serve two plates with cut fruit and a drizzle of honey, all simple, all beautiful your way. When you turn your back, he grabs the phone almost without thinking.

“Hey,” he says. “Hold the plate a little more to the left.”

You freeze. Turn slowly, looking at him.

“You want to take a picture?” you ask, voice low, suspicious.

Lance gives a half smile. “I want to see you do it again.”

You hesitate for a second. Then adjust the plate.

“Like this?” you ask.

“Perfect.”

[patroklosandachilles]

I started this with just the forced proximity spread from @3am-tarot's tarot & tropes in mind, but ended up adding the slow burn and forbidden love spreads too. The spreads and cards will be below along with the messy WWI patrochilles fic that ties them all together. Because I'm me it's as historically accurate as I could make it without going too overboard with research. 😂

Trope: forced proximity

Spread: can I have a moment to myself / wait where are you going?

Cards: IX of Cups / Death

Trope: slow burn

Spread: a subtle hint / a major move

Cards: King of Wands / Page of Swords

Trope: forbidden love

Spread: we couldn't possibly / I'll never tell

Cards: Queen of Cups / Knight of Wands

As a child of the upper class, Achilles had grown accustomed to comfort and luxury being the status quo. The house he grew up in was enormous, and when he was shipped off to boarding school he'd managed to have a private room.

Due to his background and education, he was automatically given the rank of a probationary Second Lieutenant when he enlisted, so he expected this comfort to continue despite entering a war. That reality quickly came crashing down before he even got to France.

During basic training he had to share a room since there were simply not enough rooms for anyone to have their own. He would have to share his room with another new officer and was not looking forward to it in the slightest.

Achilles was in the middle of unpacking his things when his new roommate entered. He looked up and found someone around his age who seemed to be equally annoyed that they would have to share this room. The other man looked over at him and quickly looked away, occupying himself with unpacking his own things. Achilles couldn't believe how awful his manners had been.

“Second Lieutenant Achilles Pelides. Who do I have the displeasure of sharing this room with?” He asked in an annoyed tone.

“Second Lieutenant Patroclus Menoetiades.” Patroclus had replied without even looking up.

His manners truly are awful, Achilles thought to himself. He didn't continue the conversation, and focused on unpacking the rest of his things. Once he was finished, he left the room without a word in search of better company.

Achilles was back in time for bed, and found that Patroclus was already asleep. He dressed for bed, and climbed into his own bed but had trouble falling asleep in such a new environment.

“Did you know you snore in your sleep?”

Achilles woke up to this question feeling like he hadn't slept at all. It took him a minute to process the words and he immediately frowned in response. “No. I don't snore.”

“You do. It woke me up half past four. I couldn't get back to sleep either because you never stopped.”

“Well I'm not feeling particularly rested either. If you're so sure, I'm sure there are ear plugs you can buy.”

Patroclus sighed and dropped the subject. He got ready for the day without another word, and Achilles did the same. Their day of training was exhausting, especially with their respective lack of sleep. Patroclus bought earplugs when they were released for dinner.

They continued this routine of snarky remarks in the morning and complete silence at night for the first week and a half. Their first mail delivery was what halted this routine. Achilles was busy opening his parcel before they were due for bed when he noticed that Patroclus wasn't doing the same. “Did you already open yours?” He asked, although he didn't see anything new on Patroclus’ side of the room.

“No, I didn't get anything.”

Achilles looked perplexed. “Maybe it's running late. I'm sure your family sent you something. You probably have a girl too. She'll send you something soon.”

“That's a lot of assumptions, none of which are correct. My father hates me and he'd never allow my mother to send anything herself. I don't have anyone else waiting for me either. Not all of us have beautiful blue eyes that any girl would fawn over.”

Achilles felt a thousand emotions at once. Did Patroclus really have no one? Had he just called his eyes beautiful? He looked at the other, trying to clear his head and focus on how to proceed. He shifted on his bed, making room for another body to sit. “I'm sorry,” he said with sincerity. “We can share mine if you'd like?”

“You hate sharing,” Patroclus said matter of factly. “And I don't need your pity.”

“It's not pity. I…” Achilles didn't know how to properly explain himself, but he knew he wanted to share this with Patroclus even if he didn't usually like sharing. “Just get over here and help me open this box.”

Patroclus got up, albeit a little begrudgingly, and sat down beside Achilles. “Okay, I'm here. Now open the damn box and see what your loving family sent you.”

Achilles took the lid off and revealed the contents of the box that his mother had sent him. It was likely she hadn't bothered to consult his father on the matter as she didn’t talk to him if she could help it. She'd sent a few things, one of which being a large bar of chocolate that had surprisingly not melted despite the August weather.

Achilles unwrapped the chocolate bar and broke it in half. He handed one half of it to Patroclus. “Do you really think my eyes are beautiful?”

Patroclus’ expression implied that he hadn't realized he'd used those exact words. “I…” He struggled for an explanation as he felt his face heat up.

“I don't have a girl waiting on me either, you know.” Achilles was nervous, maybe he shouldn't have said that. Maybe Patroclus hadn't meant anything by it.

“You don't?” Patroclus still looked bewildered, but he took the chocolate that Achilles was still offering. “Thank you,” he said, his hand lingering a bit too long before he pulled it away to take a bite.

“No, I don't.” Achilles looked down, his heart rate increasing as Patroclus’ touch lingered longer than it had any right to. “You didn't answer my question.”

“...yes.” Patroclus replied after he'd swallowed his bite of chocolate. “I did. Your eyes are beautiful. You're…beautiful.”

Achilles looked up at Patroclus, a smile on his face that only grew as he took in Patroclus’ appearance up close. “So are you. Especially when you blush like this.”

Patroclus took another bite of chocolate so he had an excuse to not respond and avoided Achilles’ eyes, his face heated up even more.

Achilles moved his free hand to settle on top of the one Patroclus had resting on his bed and took a bite of his own chocolate with the other. They sat like that in comfortable silence for a few moments before the call for “lights out” came echoing down the halls and Patroclus scrambled over to his side of the room.

There was a different tension between them now. They had both admitted something that could put them both in jail despite their families status if they acted upon it. Neither of them got much sleep that night.

In the morning, Patroclus acted as if nothing had happened. The only difference was that he didn't make a snarky remark to Achilles as he dressed for the day. Instead, he dressed in silence, his back turned and his eyes fixed on the wall. He left shortly after, leaving Achilles confused as he climbed out of bed.

Why hadn't Patroclus said anything to him? Had he said too much last night? It was one thing to say something, and a completely different thing to act upon it. What little touch they'd exchanged last night had seemed welcome, though. Achilles thought back to the revelation Patroclus had made about his family. Perhaps he couldn't risk doing anything further that would anger them.

Achilles dressed himself and shoved those thoughts aside. If Patroclus made no further advances, he would respect that. He went about his day in a bit of a haze, only to come back to their room and find all of Patroclus’ things gone. He could feel the panic rise in him and immediately went back out to find the Captain in charge of their room assignments.

“Second Lieutenant Menoetiades is no longer in our shared room, sir. Was he moved?”

“Yes. He requested to be moved because apparently he isn't getting any sleep due to your snoring. Congratulations, you have the room to yourself now.”

Achilles started to frown, but quickly fixed his expression to a neutral one before he saluted. “Thank you, sir.” He walked away without another word.

When he got back to his room, he hated the silence. He hated even thinking about it as his room instead of their room. This was what he had craved up until yesterday, but then Patroclus had called him beautiful. There was such a comfort in that phrase, but it had scared Patroclus off. The emotions that were stirring inside him were new, he'd never wanted to share his space before but now he felt he needed it.

Achilles had the worst night of sleep since he'd arrived that night. He'd been unable to stop his spiraling thoughts about Patroclus. He showed up to their drills looking absolutely miserable, but no one made a comment about it. He went through the motions, but his mind was still on Patroclus instead of proper bayonet techniques.

Patroclus continued to avoid Achilles, and by the end of the second week, Achilles didn't really want to even leave his room. He thought about how ridiculous it was that one encounter could alter his emotions so much but that didn't mean he could change them.

They were given a day off and Achilles used his free time to do what little research he could into the British and French sodomy laws. He was surprised to learn that homosexuality hadn't been criminalized in France since 1791. He realized that even once they got to France they would be subject to British Military law, but the realization was still a comforting one. He thought of how best to describe his thoughts and feelings with this new information to Patroclus. It took some time, but once he'd rehearsed it in his head more times than he could remember he went out in search of Patroclus. They still had a few hours before they had to be back in their rooms.

He found Patroclus sitting under a tree at the edge of the training camp with a book in his hands. The book was closed and upon closer look, so were the other's eyes. Had Patroclus not been sleeping well either?

Achilles cleared his throat and Patroclus opened his eyes, looking a bit startled. He looked even more so when he realized it was Achilles in front of him.

Achilles wasted no time. He sat down on the ground in front of Patroclus and launched into his speech, although it didn't come out as well as he'd rehearsed.

“Patroclus, please come back. I didn't think it was possible to miss someone like I've missed you since you left. I don't know why you left, but I can guess. Maybe I was a bit too forward. I didn't mean to scare you off. We don’t have to do anything you aren't comfortable with. We'll be in France soon and we probably won't even have much time to ourselves if any, but I still want you by my side. Did you know that homosexuality has been legal in France since 1791? I found that out today–”

Patroclus put his hand over Achilles’ mouth to stop his rambling. Achilles looked surprised, but fell silent.

“I didn't realize you were such a nerd. Looking up French law on the only day off we'll probably have? It's…well, it means a lot actually. I was nervous and I didn't want to tarnish your reputation. But if you want me at your side, I'll be there.”

Patroclus removed his hand and moved in closer to Achilles. “I'll do whatever you want.”

Achilles looked beyond relieved. He smiled, looked around to make sure they were alone and far from anyone's view, and kissed Patroclus softly.

The kiss was an exploration, a beginning with so much possibility, but Achilles kept it brief since they were still out in the open.

“Transfer back to our room and we can do more of that. We can figure out what to do once we're in France if we even have time. I don't want to waste any more time.”

[thetablestspoon]

I dunno about others, but usually, when I am not focused on something and for example I'm just sitting or I'm doing something that doesn't require much thinking, my mind is doing 3 different thought chains at the same time there is a song or two playing in the background and I'm having a hypothetical conversation or I'm replaying one that happened however long ago while making up a scenario or explaining to myself something I already know

(It's also annoying because sometimes I make posts in my head and they escape before I can write them and that is the exact reason I can only make short posts, if it's too long I can no longer write them in a way than makes sense)

So I was trying to tell my mother about how alien invasions are usually portrayed in media and what concepts I would like to see more of (I have a post about this in drafts, maybe I'll finish it one day, who knows)

And she told me that I should stop sitting around doing nothing but thinking about irrelevant stuff and maybe do the tasks I have instead

But the problem is, that entire topic was constructed in my mind over the 5-6 minutes I was unpacking the groceries for her

She seemed very confused and pretty much told me that it's surely interesting but I should go do the stuff

Is this not how brains usually work?

Please tell me I'm normal

Cause I refuse to believe people just don't think when they are not occupied with something that requires focus and thinking

[dollypopup]

Listen, I'm not going to go back and forth with you in the replies, @elovessomanythings, 1 because I can talk for days, and 2, because 3 replies in a row is a conversation, so let's converse.

Because I could not disagree with you more

"I do not read him as a villain. Villain of this story has always been Shonda and her completely fake sensitivity. As for your reading into C, you list so many events you've fictionalized based on a scene which funny enough was placed so we can look into Anthony's mindset and scars to understand why he makes such unreasonable, stubborn decisions. Betraying his own feelings and two other women along the way. They served their purpose. 1/2 2/2 Last season had far more better writing in terms of building leading man as a fully fleshed character. Not gonna get into the storyline. Shondaland is so hungry for soap opera angsts and toxic archetypes of the genre. In each and every turn writers choose to stir the pot, to provoke the audience than putting effort into refreshing ideas, memorable conversations. Each season has a monologue that goes viral and that's that. Deliberately shallow. I come across w a reddit post. Someone read and typed what Colin had written in his diary from a scene that showed it. A few lines of sentences are more poignant than 2 seasons plus 4 episode he has appeared. Why Pen doesn't read that but yet another sexcapade? Treating your own show "it went viral bc of Duke's nudity and +18 scenes so let's add a bunch of that" is insulting to the writers room if not anyone else. 🤷🏾‍♀️"

Frankly? I think you do not want to understand Colin as a character. And I don't understand why you feel the need to do so on my post, but fine, I'll bite. I've been loving Colin as a character since his season 1 days, and after over 40 fics and countless metas, you're far from the last person who has a bad faith take on him that I've had a conversation with. So, since you wanna walk with me, let's walk.

Could you please inform me as to the fictionalized events I've listed? Because everything is either from book canon or directly from the show itself. But if you just want to go with the show, the reality is that whilst the show has not given Colin explicit POV, (either 1: they didn't have the time to, or 2 (considerably more clever): to keep us from it as an audience because the entire point of Colin's character is that so much of it is a facade) you can still understand him as a character from Luke Newton's fantastic performance and the writing itself. It is very evident that he keeps so much himself locked away from others, and it has to do with his background. Sure, we don't have the explicit proof of his trauma via flashback. . .but we don't really need to.

It doesn't take a big jump to realize that a 12 year old boy who lost his father and then got sent off to school near immediately after doing so would be putting on personas to make his family, mired in grief, and those around him more tolerant of him. It isn't a huge stretch to realize that Colin is a middle child in a family of 8 and is always lost in the shuffle, so he's a bit of a loner in his own house, and that in being so, he'd do what he must to gain favor externally. It makes a lot of sense that when his mother fell into deep depression after losing her husband, and his brothers took on the lion's share of the familial responsibilities, Colin was lost in the fray and felt useless and lost.

We see that outwardly, he's happy Colin, charming Colin, Colin with a quip, Colin being helpful. We also see that inwardly, he's Colin crying on his bed. Colin grieving alone. Colin without a reply. Colin ignored for his interests so he stops discussing his interests. Colin saying 'yes. . .remarkable. . .as in, I seem to have many remarks about it'. We have seen his insecurities in small ways built to big ways throughout the entirety of his existence in the show, and yes, they're subtle, which is why Season 3 focusing so explicitly on his perspective is beautiful and I was LIVING for it. But since you want to throw Anthony and Season 2 into the loop, I think it's vital to bring up the fact that all you're saying about Anthony? and Season 2? That it "had far more better writing in terms of building leading man as a fully fleshed character"?

Yeah. That was an ENTIRE season to get the characterization and arc across. Colin has had 4 episodes. Sure, Colin has been in the cast for two seasons, but he wasn't really a secondary lead like Anthony was, where in Season 1 his role is more akin to Eloise's in Season 3: he has a lot of connections and a lot of POV because of it. But Colin largely exists on the outskirts until this season, and he doesn't get much in terms of focus of his struggles and concerns, only how others percieve him, and so what we know of him, we must glean through analysis of previous seasons and context of such, or through the direct POV of this one.

Yes, this show has soap opera archetypes. . .it's a drama based on a historical romance written in the 2000s. That's why we as the audience do meta analysis, that's why we dig into the characters. You accused me of overreading in the replies, but digging into characters and backstories and kernels of storyline and fleshing them out, that's half the joy of media consumption. I read deeply into him because I adore him and I see how phenomenal of a character he is, and I stand by the fact that his story is incredibly important to see on screen.

And of course Colin is going to have more fleshing out! He's only had 4 episodes of direct POV! And in those 4 episodes, less time than almost any of the main cast has had, we have seen so much of him. Colin has proven himself to be kind and generous and sensitive. His relationship to sex and sexuality is important to his storyline, and so yes, the journal entry in which he states he would like to be less needy and insecure but still hold true to the vulnerability that makes him who he is will be elaborated on more fully, but they had Penelope read how he experiences sex without intimacy- how he feels distance even in what should be an incredibly close act. That's not a throwaway line to his story. I love his journal entry about his insecurity, how it states aloud how he feels.

But also. . .it is elaborated on in the show. Colin putting on a persona is proof of this. Colin's journey throughout the seasons is showing this sentiment. Colin coming to apologize to Penelope after he tells her he misses her and she informs she overheard him (a clash of his true self and his societal persona) is proof that his gentle heart wins out. His telling Penelope that living for the approval of others whilst he is always literally masquerading FOR the approval of others. . .that is proof he is still insecure but would like to be less so. He says aloud he misses her. He very obviously puts on his mask. He even says the same lines to the debutantes! He is playing a role. A role of a pretty, perfect Prince Charming, arms length away from everyone. Everyone but Pen. Everyone but who he feels that intimate closeness with.

The show does not have to hand hold the audience through every single nuance. Colin *is* fleshed out. In the span of 4 episodes, Colin has done what no other male lead has done in the same amount of time: he has confronted his feelings, and he has acted on them openly and honestly. In Episode 4, Anthony proposed to Edwina, Kate's sister, instead of her, and informs Kate that she vexes him. In Episode 4, Simon insists he cannot marry Daphne, and is even willing to be shot by his best friend Anthony over it.

These men run from their feelings. And yes, they have reasons, but Colin also had reasons to run from his feelings.

And yet, unlike them. . .he runs toward them. He literally runs after his heart, and puts it all out on the table. Er. . .carriage seat? He kneels before his love interest after spending episodes trying to help her and telling her how wonderful she is, and he lays his feelings bare for her, not knowing she feels the same. He takes his own advice on bravery, he follows Penelope's boldness in asking him for intimacy and love, and he does the same. Colin hasn't even done his actual love confession yet!!! Yes, he has another one! This is just his 'I want to be with you' moment, imagine how we'll feel when he professes that he loves her?

I repeat: It's not even his love confession, yet. And already he's been so open and honest with his feelings. Colin is romantic and a dreamer, Colin is growing up and doing so in imperfect ways, coping by being a people pleaser to feel safe and accepted in his society, and then Colin, at only 22 years old, rejects his coping mechanism, and runs off after Penelope in full view of his entire society, breaks up a dance with a man everyone knows will propose, and emerges on the other side engaged to her. Colin is a decade younger than the previous leads, and has shown more emotional maturity than the both of them.

So, in short terms. . .miss me. Colin is fantastic. I won't budge on that.

If your concerns with the show are about nudity and sex scenes. . .maybe it's time to find another show. Sex is a big part of Bridgerton and it's a large reason why people love it, and I'm not and never have been here for the puritanical rejection of sex and sexuality. It's a vital part of both Penelope and Colin's arcs this season, and it holds significance narratively. As Nicola states, these are not throwaway scenes. Each one means something and each one progress the story. For Colin, the brothel scenes are to indicate pre and post realizing his feelings. In the first, he is only there physically, and the second, he cannot even do that much. It is to represent how he rejects his society's expectation that sex for him as a man should be surface level and shallow, and he embraces that he wants love and connection over fast pleasure. That's why the carriage scene is so different: he maintains eye-contact, he is fully present, and he is fully connected to Penelope in a way he wasn't with anyone else.

I don't think it's that difficult to read unless you don't want to. But people who do not want to understand him will choose to purposefully misread him, or will choose to disregard him, as you have in many ways, but here's the rub: just because you don't see it doesn't mean it isn't there.

Colin's the kind of character where you have to scratch the surface of him to see all the beauty beneath the veneer. For those of us who do so, he is rich and complex and incredibly endearing and understandable. He is brilliant and kind, a wonderful male love lead, so much of the female gaze personified, and so so very relatable.

And for those who don't want to actually see him? Y'all are missing out

I truly cannot overstate just how much I adore Colin Bridgerton as a male love lead, and how important his story is, in particular in a current, modern reading. We live in a time of alpha male machismo that in many ways mirrors the sexism of the historical time period Colin is in, and we have a hero who explicitly rejects it. More than that, we have a hero who first tries on the persona, first tries to fit in, and then determines, with no outside influence and all on his own, that it's wrong. That he doesn't want to be like the men of his society, that he doesn't like the expectation of sex without love and commitment and connection, that he doesn't want to be 'one of the boys', even if it comes at their derision.

Because when Violet says he has always been her most sensitive child, when he has always considered others before himself, when he has always offered a joke or a moment of levity- for so long, he felt he had to. That there was no other choice.

Colin Bridgerton, The Great Pretender, is finally coming into the light.

Take my hand. Come walk with me.

Colin's arc is incredibly clear, and incredibly dear to me. We can track his progress throughout the seasons he has been in, but if we consider his backstory, it comes even more in clarity.

Piecing together a timeline with some influence from the books and loose historical accuracy, Colin loses his father at 12 and then is sent off to Eton. And he is a tiny thing when his father passes, shorter even than his 9 year old sister, Eloise.

(Yes, I checked!! He's half a head shorter than Eloise, and an entire head shorter than Daphne. This boy is SMALL)

So it makes a lot of sense to me that this is the start of his fake-it-to-make-it personality. He cannot grieve with his family in these circumstances, he's been sent off to school with other boys who are bigger and stronger than him, and he must realize relatively quickly that weakness in their eyes will never be tolerated. In fact, Eton was well known for corporal punishment and bullying during this time. Older boys were well known to mistreat the younger once, and considering just how small and soft-hearted Colin is, and just how vulnerable he is having lost his father-

Of course Colin would become a target of such.

And despite that, we meet him in Season 1 with an endearing earnestness and hopefulness in the world. Something inside him, something sweet and gentle and warm, thrives to live. And fights against grief to do so. How easy it would have been for him to lose his father and be bitter. How easy for him to see his father die from the steps of Aubrey Hall, to be sent to a boarding school away, and withdraw in on himself.

And yet, he doesn't.

At least, not in the way one would suspect. Instead, Colin becomes a chronic people pleaser. If the people around him are happy, then he will be safe. Will not be hurt. And they have no space for his own hurt, regardless. There's hardly even any space for his mirth, as most people didn't even reply to his letters on his travels the previous season.

In Colin's confession in Season 3, he says 'I have spent so long trying to feel less', and this numbing begins early in his life. He's a consummate gentleman in Season 1. He does everything by the book, everything as he should. He wants to be accepted in his society, wants to be taken seriously, wants to belong. So he sees a pretty woman, and he gets along with her well enough, and he courts her. Openly, honestly, in full view. It isn't a heart-stopping love, but he has numbed himself for years at this point, so affection will do, and if proper men of his society are married, well, maybe he'd finally be taken seriously.

And yet, no one notices him, even still. No one except Penelope. His own mother doesn't recognize his behavior, and worries for him after she does. How long has it been since she's actually seen him? We know from the show that he's incredibly close to his mother, and loves her dearly, but we also know that after Edmund's passing, Violet was mired in grief and post-partum depression. Colin misses much of this as a firsthand witness since he's at school, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't be able to tell, wouldn't be affected by losing his mother and father in one fell swoop. In fact, Colin loses his connection to the majority of his family in being sent to school so soon after the tragedy. So of course he comes back and he tries not to make waves. Tries to do things correctly.

His friction with Anthony proves time and time again that nothing he does is entirely ever able to fully please him, and this causes contention in their brotherly bond. Of all the siblings, Anthony is arguably the most harsh with Colin. And he is also the model for who a man should be in the family, as the head of the family.

So when Anthony sees Colin earnestly try to marry, he scoffs him off. Accuses Colin of only wanting to marry to have sex, and then claiming "It is my fault. I should have taken you to brothels." This is the first on-screen shaming of Colin looking for connection before sex, and Colin doubles down. He wants to marry for love.

But he doesn't actually love Marina. Neither of them truly know each other, and so when it all blows up, and he is humiliated to the entirety of his community, Colin gets his first taste of romantic failure. He tried to do it right, and it ended more wrong than he could have ever imagined. So, maybe Anthony was right. Maybe he is just a foolish, green boy, who has no idea how to go about things. The fallout of his failed engagement echoes in the persona he puts on in Season 3, and the choices he undergoes during them. Is it any wonder he ends up going to brothels to have unfulfilling sex if even his own BROTHER, the head of his family, tells him to do so?

It doesn't happen right away, though. Despite the fact that no one truly checks on him or sees how this breakup effects him (Eloise dismisses the hurt he must feel in light of such events with an honestly rather accurate wave-away "Men are always less affected", and that is true), it is evident that he is NOT okay.

We leave Colin in Season 1 putting on a mask, a happy face to his family, a 'you inspired me' to Penelope, and then spends his travels sad. Depressed. Taking drugs to try to ease his mind, occupying himself with writing to Penelope. In Season 2, he spends the entirety of it trying to be useful. And he does this with Penelope. He feels deeply for her, he cares so much for her, and he even says it to her aloud 'You are special to me' and 'I will always look after you' and how he could never give her up. Season 2 is a season of healing for Colin- he closes his chapter with Marina with a relationship post-mortum conversation after he does a wellness check to make sure she's alive (let's be real here, no one else was going to reach out to her. She made it clear to him that even her own father didn't want her), makes amends with Will, proves himself useful to Penelope, and departs on a high: he thinks he threaded the needle. He thinks he was successful sending Jack off, that he made Penelope happy, and that he's in with The Boys.

But whilst the person he is around Penelope is genuine, the person he is around these men are not. We know from Season 3 that they don't actually like him. They make snide, underhanded comments toward him, and laugh at him. I stand by the idea that end of season 2 is Fife and Co. laughing at Penelope AND laughing at Colin. They don't care about their friendship, they're teasing him for caring about her so openly, and Colin is protective of the relationship he has with Penelope. So he makes a comment for the boys, and puts on his mask. 'I would never court Penelope Featherington' (look, I'm just like you. I walk like you, talk like you, speak like you) 'Not in your wildest fantasies, Fife' (I am one of you one of you one of you- so why does it feel so hollow?)

He gets, now, his first taste of acceptance from them. They come to him to Mondrich's bar, he repays his slight against him, and he feels he is one of them. (Does he truly *want* to be one of them?) And so when we open Season 3, it's a smooth progression.

Colin is walking the walk and talking the talk, and yet his heart isn't in it. He's not one of these smarmy men, but he mimics them. Their behavior. In part, at least. Whilst Fife is out preying on 18 year old women in coat closets, Colin is telling gaggles of girls how pretty they are and how with such nice dresses, they're sure to find a husband. He makes it clear he's not an option, but that he doesn't mind being a fantasy. And Luke Newton does an amazing job making that clear: there are three sides of Colin. The Colin portrayed to his society in the light in good company (1) and the Colin portrayed to his society in the dark, in. . .less savory circles (aka: The Lads)(2), his 'armor' as his mum calls it. And finally, the most important but the one kept closest to the chest: the Colin of truth. The Colin who cries alone in his room after a breakup, the Colin who doesn't burden others with his feelings, the Colin who writes to Penelope, the Colin who loves deeply and feels deeply.

But his society has no use for a man like the real Colin, they do not *want* a man like real Colin, so he puts it under lock and key. And so much of this is centered around his feelings about sex, so here comes my 'Colin is Queer' soapbox. Colin does not experience sexual attraction like the rest of the men of the ton. He is expected to find it casual and be cavalier about it. To just want to fuck for the sake of fucking. But Colin needs love and romance and connection to actually enjoy sexual interactions. Nowadays, we recognize this as being on the asexual spectrum, of being demisexual, but he didn't have words for that in the time period he's in, so he has to forge ahead to figure himself out without a community identity to find solidarity with. That's what makes the brothel scenes so interesting as a narrative device: in the first, he's masking even in the midst of it, and in the second, he can't. After kissing Penelope, he finally, for the first time in his life, has a sexual interaction that means something to him.

It's the first one he truly enjoys, and the first one that feels right to him. It clicks for him that oh, that's what it's meant to be like. And the strain of that realization whilst still having to be what his society expects of him puts immense stress on his shoulders. You see how he grows more and more uncomfortable about the conversations, until finally he rejects it outright.

Even when it's very much not encouraged for him to do so. He's even told "You are much more fun this season." That's why he hides himself. From near everyone, even his family, even his brothers. It's telling how Anthony's positive interaction with Colin is when they're at the club, and Anthony praises him for his most recent attention. Have we seen much of Anthony being proud of Colin, otherwise? Not really. So he's reinforced in his persona. Doesn't boast of his travels because it didn't have anyone liking him for it, before. Doesn't even say how many cities he's gone to. Except with Penelope.

In the books, there's a line about their kiss, referencing how his world will never be the same. And it won't be. Because when Colin says that she helps him see the world in new ways, it's in a multitude of meanings.

Penelope refuses to let him wear the mask, because in truth, Penelope is the only one who doesn't like it. Not only does she see the real Colin, but she enjoys the real Colin. Whilst everyone else is simpering over Colin's new look and attitude, rejects who he is in reality, Penelope dismisses it, wants the person she knows him to be instead. It's only when he strips down the facades that Penelope allows him into her life again. And her Whistledown article was harsh, but it was also true. He *is* masking. He *is* putting on a persona and a role. But she was wrong when she asked if Colin even knows which is real: Colin knows very well which is real. And he also knows the realities of him haven't been accepted.

When Colin tells Penelope charm can be taught, he speaks from experience. When he says 'living for the expectations of others is a trap' it is because he has already fallen into it, and if he can't dig himself out, maybe he can keep her from it. Colin tells her 'you do not need lessons' and that she is fine exactly as she is, because just as she sees the real him and loves him, he sees the real her, and loves her, too. But they both live in the constraints of their society, and so they both put on the masquerade. Even sometimes to hide from each other.

The current climax of his arc is when he's out with the lads, after they all go off to the brothel again, and he disassociates from the experience. Playing cards and insisting on sharing sexual exploits, to which he does not want to take part, and makes a lighthearted dig at them. 'There is no gentleman at this table'. He includes himself in that, and then clarifies. He speaks aloud for the first time to them the truth of his heart- 'Do you not ever tire of the expectation to remain cavalier about the one thing in life that holds genuine meaning? Do you not find it lonely?' Can it really only just be him?

And it is. Or, maybe it isn't, but the rest of them aren't brave enough to admit it, so they're okay in making him feel like it is, in outcasting him for being a romantic, for caring about a woman beyond what she can provide for him sexually. Colin professes he doesn't like who he's become, doesn't like the expectations for him to behave the way he has, and they laugh at him. Again. He is made fun of, again.

He goes home and he falls in his bed and he feels like he lost it all. Lost Penelope to his own advice, and lost his newfound shine in his community. But when he's faced with which one matters more to him, he chooses Penelope. Unhesitatingly.

Colin chooses to be sensitive. He chooses to be a warm-hearted, gentle man in a society that prefers sexist machismo. Act one way in the light and another in the shadows. Colin wants to live authentically, as a man he doesn't really have a role model for. He is brave and he is tender, he sees the sexism of his society and he rejects it. He sees the importance Penelope has in his life, the way she makes him feel, and he embraces her wholeheartedly. He wants love and romance, he wants connection and meaning.

Colin, The Great Pretender, sick of pretending. Colin, walking into that ballroom and giving Fife the cut direct when he invites him out. Colin, cutting into a dance in the middle of a ball between Penelope and a man the entire city knows is about to propose. Colin staring deeply into her eyes with such unfiltered longing even *Cressida* can't help but notice what's going on. Colin running off after Penelope in full view of his society, outrunning a *carriage* to see her. Begging her to let him in. Colin on his knees, all but flaying his chest open for Penelope to see his heart. Colin made a choice when that candle flickered out, and his choice was Penelope. His choice was himself. And his choice was to flip off societal expectation and to live for love, damn the consequences.

I think our own world would be a better place if modern men took his example, too. Colin Bridgerton as male love lead in Bridgerton, a global show, is such a refreshing, wonderful example. A man who tried to be like what the world wanted, and who decided to go against the gender norms of his time. A man who prioritizes the woman he loves, who risks ridicule in doing so and comes to realize that he doesn't care. He doesn't care anymore about being one of the boys, one of the lads, one of the guys. Fuck his society if his society can't recognize the beauty of what he feels with Pen. He cares about being the best self he can be. And that best self is around Penelope, inspired by Penelope.

Because how he is with Penelope? God, I could swoon. At every turn, he prioritizes her comfort and personhood. He validates her, he sees her in beautiful, positive light and he helps her see herself that way, too. He encourages her to be brave because he already feels she is, he refuses to let her call herself stupid or a laughingstock, he apologizes without excuses, he checks in on her every step of the way. He's so passionate in that carriage, he's burning for her, he's yearning, but he doesn't do anything until she agrees for him to. He confesses his feelings and when she says they're friends, he backs off. He listens, he cares. He apologizes for overstepping her boundaries, and then when she gives him her consent, the only thing on his mind is showing how much he wants and appreciates her by providing her pleasure. Colin, the people pleaser, dedicated only to pleasing two people in that moment: Penelope, and himself. Because he wants to do that, to give her an orgasm that exists just for her. He's a witness to it, and that's pleasure for him, too. He waits for her nod of consent, he revels in seeing her enjoying herself. And the aftercare- I could cry.

Colin is a man who had every single reason not to be a kind, sensitive soul, and still he chose it. Chose to share it because the headline, even a wallflower can bloom, that's not just for Penelope.

It's for Colin, too.

[small-duck-energy]

So... I finished my first playthrough of Dragon Age Veilguard last night at about 68 hours. I have some thoughts, and I'll try to split them below between non-spoilery things (above the cut) and spoilery things under the cut

I enjoyed the character customization and how my character turned out. The Mourn Watch background sounded interesting to me so I went with that and never regretted it (and the grand necropolis is wayyyy cooler than it was described in Inquisition). I didn't intend to make a trans character initially, but the dialogue option came up at some point and it felt right, so I went with it. This gave me an extra dialog option a few times throughout the playthrough, and I often enjoyed those choices too.

I didn't look up guides beforehand, so I didn't have any knowledge about the combat going in. Warrior looked the most promising off the bat, so I went with that. Combat was pretty same-y, which is neutral in my book (not a selling point, but not a pain). Part of that was my fault for focusing solely on my character's power rather than companion combos. Also, Blight Bane gets some pretty nutty damage later on.... And the defense buffs from the Templar spec get silly, like 600 defense means most boss attacks tickle you and anything less is ignored...

I enjoyed all of the companions! I thought I wasn't going to like Bellara at first, but I did her first quest and immediately Understood. Conversely, I assumed I was going to be enamored with Lucanis but didn't get there. Emmerich and Taash were pretty quick favorites for me, but I was bummed at how many companions gave Emmerich crap about his necromancy (like I'm right here too and also a mourn watcher....). Give us both crap for it? If I do another playthrough then I definitely need to spend more time with Neve and Harding though. Naturally, I got everyone to Hero status.

I think the only technical gripes or bugs I ran into were the shaders thing on first launch where it sits there for like 15 minutes.... that was tedious. Sometimes I'd get stuck in a slow walk animation and have to reload. But nothing game breaking, and the game ran smoothly right out of the box.

Spoilery thoughts under the cut

While I get that the Mythal ending is the Good Ending.......... Tricking the God of Lies with a bait&switch would objectively be Very Funny. I should go find that ending on youtube.

I'm also shocked at how few named characters died in the final quest line... I had assumed most folks were going to and it was going to be an somewhat hollow victory, but only 1 of your companions does and 0 of the other named characters (like Viago or The Viper) do? I can't say I'm mad about that, just surprised.

I also got the 3 rings ending, so I guess something wiggly is coming at some point...

I missed 100%ing the game because I didn't do enough Dock Town quests to get them to 3. I chose them in the early dragon fight because I figured the Venatori would otherwise get too powerful, which I was annoyed to find out the kill the Archon, take over a bunch of stuff, and Minrathous gets blighted anyway... so next playthrough they can suffer.

I also missed a couple altars because I had over 3k health and nothing useful to spend skill points on, so I stopped looking for them. I'll probably go back to an earlier save and get the last couple just for completion's sake though.

I also missed the flowers achievement.... not sure how I was supposed to know about that in-game, but whatever.

I didn't feel great about the number of times I'd complete a companion or faction quest line and then get asked to make a major decision for them.... It was jarring with Taash's quest line like "we helped you find texts and people to figure out your identity" followed by "please decide for me if I should be Qunari or Rivaini".... Even more so with the Dock Town "decide the next Archon".... I don't have a better idea for how any of the quest lines should have ended though, so I'm just complaining.

I was glad I paid enough attention to get the Mythal ending. Took me 2 tries to do her dialogue right, but I was glad I didn't have to look it up! AND HER SWORD LOOKS SO COOL

That's enough thoughts for now. I might add more in a reblog later. Might do another playthrough too. We'll see.

[mikaelle-story]

Chapter 5: Threads of Deception

Read Chapter 4

In a calm, dimly lit café hidden away from the busy streets, Shinichi, Aya, Hajime, Dr. Endo, and Dr. Takahashi meet. Their conversation is weighing them down, creating a stifling atmosphere. Their attention is entirely focused on the impending threat of The Weaver, despite the background noise of faint conversation and clinking cups.

Dr. Hiroshi: "Detective Aizawa, you’re pushing yourself too hard. The deeper you go, the more you risk losing yourself. The Id Fracture is not just a tool—it’s a mirror. And what it reflects can consume you."

Hajime: [voice tinged with frustration] "Shinichi, you’re already on the edge. This isn’t just about finding the Weaver anymore. It’s about you. You’re gambling with your own mind, and you don’t even seem to realize it."

Dr. Himari: [her voice soft, but urgent] "Please, Detective Aizawa... I know you want to stop him, but don’t let this destroy you. You can’t fight him if you lose yourself in the process. We need you—you, not the broken pieces of what’s left."

Aya: [looking at him with pleading eyes] "Shinichi, this isn’t just a case. You’re risking everything, and we can’t lose you. I know you’re determined, but please don’t let this consume you. There’s a point where it’s just not worth it anymore."

Shinichi: "I understand your concerns, all of you. But this isn’t just a case to me anymore. The Weaver, the Id Fracture… they’re all part of something bigger. I can’t walk away now. Not when we’re so close."

The team realizes that they can't change his mind, so they reluctantly accept his decision.

Dr. Takahashi gives a deep sigh, his gaze full of concern but also respect for Shinichi’s determination.

Dr. Hiroshi (reluctantly) "You’re making a dangerous choice, Detective Aizawa. But... I won’t stop you. Just remember—there may come a time when the cost is more than you’re willing to pay."

Hajime rubs his temples, frustration still lingering, but he finally nods in acceptance.

Hajime (sighs, resigned) "I can’t change your mind, can I? Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. Just... be careful, Shinichi. I don’t want to lose you too."

Dr. Endo steps forward, placing a hand on Shinichi’s arm, her voice quiet but firm.

Dr. Himari (softly, but with a finality in her voice) "I don’t like it, but I won’t stop you. Just promise that you’ll come back. Whatever happens, we’re here for you."

Aya places a hand on her heart, her voice steady but filled with sadness.

Aya: (nodding, though her eyes betray her worry) "I know you think you have to do this, Shinichi. We all do. I just hope you’ll find your way back from this... whatever it takes. We’re behind you, no matter what.

Shinichi: "Thank you, everyone. For believing in me. I'll make sure I come back to all of you."

With the weight of his decision heavy on his shoulders, Shinichi turns and walks toward the unknown. The path ahead is uncertain, but for the first time in a while, he doesn't feel entirely alone in the fight.

As his thoughts drift, Shinichi gazes out the window, his expression unreadable. Unaware that The Weaver’s web is tightening around him, drawing him closer to an unseen trap, his mind is already focused on the plunge he is about to take into the Id Fracture. The stillness around him offers no comfort, only the cold echo of his own doubts.

His boots click against the twisted pavement as he moves forward, each step reverberating through the warped streets. The sound seems to echo from another world, reverberating unnaturally in the air. His senses are heightened, a growing unease gnawing at him despite his attempts to remain composed. Something about this place—this city—feels wrong, as though every street and corner is watching him.

Then, in the midst of the stillness, he hears it: a faint, sorrowful sobbing. It is distant at first, like a soft lullaby carried on the wind, but it grows louder with every step he takes. The sound clings to him, relentless and gnawing at the edges of his mind. His breath quickens, his heartbeat thunders in his ears, and an instinctual dread coils in his gut.

He strains to pinpoint the source, his body frozen in place as the sobbing becomes louder, more urgent. It’s as if the sound itself doesn’t belong in this place—a wrongness that cuts through the silence.

Turning a corner, Shinichi stops dead in his tracks. There, huddled on the ground, is a young woman, her face buried in her arms, her knees pulled tightly to her chest. The sobbing is no longer distant, but raw and unfiltered, the sound of despair seeping into the air around her. Her body language screams defeat, her posture crumpled as if she’s given up entirely.

Shinichi’s heart pounds in his chest, an unfamiliar sense of dread settling in. Though he has no idea who she is or why she’s here, something deep inside tells him that this encounter is no coincidence. The influence of the Weaver is insidious, and this woman… she is tangled in it, just like him.

Shinichi takes a tentative step forward, his breath shallow, his voice steady but cautious.

Shinichi: (softly) "Hey... Are you okay?"

The woman doesn’t respond at first, her sobs continuing in quiet desperation. Shinichi takes another step, his instincts urging him to reach out, but something about the scene holds him back, a quiet warning gnawing at his mind.

Shinichi: (a little louder, but still gentle) "You’re not alone. What’s going on? What’s happened to you?"

The woman’s sobs falter for a moment, and she slowly lifts her head, her eyes wide and empty, a hollow look in them as if she’s lost something important. Her voice cracks when she speaks, barely a whisper.

Woman: "He... He’s coming. You shouldn’t be here. The threads... they’re everywhere. You’re already tangled in them... just like me."

Shinichi feels a chill run down his spine, the mention of "threads" ringing a disturbing bell in his mind. The Weaver’s influence—he’s not just facing it alone.

Shinichi: (grimly) "The Weaver. He’s been leaving his mark, hasn’t he?"

The woman nods slowly, her eyes never leaving his, as if she’s seeing something in him, something he can't quite understand.

Woman: "You’re already too far gone... It’s too late for you... Just like it was for me... you’ll never escape. The threads will never let you go."

Shinichi’s pulse quickens, and though he feels the weight of her words, he steadies himself, his resolve hardening.

Shinichi: (quietly) "I haven’t come this far to be caught in someone else’s web. I’ll stop him. I have to."

The woman’s gaze falters as she looks away, tears still tracing down her cheeks.

Woman: (softly) "You’ll see... you’ll see... there’s no escaping it..."

Her sobs resume, fading into the background as Shinichi stands there, his mind already racing with the implications of her words. The Weaver's grip tightens around him, and he knows now more than ever that he is not just hunting a man—he is hunting a force, an evil that doesn't just exist in the physical world, but in the very fabric of minds.

Read Chapter 6

[littlcfreaks]

he really has to put a lot of effort into not letting his thoughts wander. this wasn't a movie. the night wouldn't end with them falling in love. in fact, he would be lucky if he ended up with travis' number at the end of all of this. he'd be lucky to end with anything other than the memory he knew would be burned into his brain. it didn't make it any easier to stop thinking about what their night could look like in another life - curled up together on the couch, a movie on in the background that declan was talking over, travis beaming his too bright smile. almost as vivid as a memory, rather than a hazy daydream. he remembers hearing a story once about a red string and he hadn't understood it at the time. he didn't understand how anyone could ever feel like their life was pulling them towards someone, but it was the only explanation he had to offer himself as to why he felt so immediately comfortable. he doesn't know why he gets bashful, cheeks flushing light pink. it wasn't like he didn't have friends who enjoyed listening to him talk. he had as many people in his life who enjoyed listening to him as those that didn't. it was just different with travis. everything was. "well if you're dreading it - feel free to take a couple voice memos. play 'em when you get lonely." his heart tugs in all different directions at the explanation. he feels protective, angry. he can't find the words so he just murmurs, "thats so shitty. who does that to their kid?" he has a million more questions, but he doesn't really trust himself to not be too angry and travis doesn't know him well enough to know that just who he is; so he moves past the conversation, focusing on happier things. a smile beams off his face, "seriously? you will? i'll get you tickets. we get a few for every game." he hesitates, but everything was going so well, he figured he might as well go for it. the worst travis could tell him was no, "we could like go get a drink or something after. you know, if you want. no pressure and you can still have the tickets if you don't want to!" his eyebrows wiggle before he turns to walk down the hallway, "boss, eh? never been called boss before. usually people just tell me i'm boss-y." they reach the bathroom and declan situates travis to sit on the toilet, retrieving the first aid kit that he kept under the sink, setting to work cleaning the cuts on his face carefully. his bottom lip was tugged between his teeth, intently focused on making sure everything was done carefully and warning travis before each thing that would sting or bother him in any way. and if he stayed close even after he was done, his hand hesitating on travis cheek... so what?

if you were to ask travis, he hadn't ever met someone quite so smooth before. at least not in a way that feels so authentically them. it has him beaming and he can't recall the last time he'd felt so intrigued and endeared by another person before. he adored his friends, they were his family, but this felt like something fresh. something new that he wasn't entirely prepared for, but…excited to experience just the same. the touches are subtle, but the more they occur, the happier that travis naturally becomes. it feels natural to be that close to him, it's easy to respond to him and his remark about his smile has him smiling all the more. "ah, nah - like, on the contrary i was dreading the moment you stopped talking. y'can keep going as long as you like. can sleep talk to me too, if you really wanna." he teases in turn. listening to him intently, conveying how genuine his words actually were. "uh no, i don't mind…" the only thing that always concerned him was coming across as pathetic, or as though he was seeking pity. but he wasn't either, and he trusted declan more than one probably should a man they've only just met. "i guess y'could say it's complicated? my folks kicked me out when i was fifteen - my dad had been my 'manager'…" he brushes it off with a shake of his hand, but it had impacted him for a very long time. he doubted it'd ever stop. "then i had to get any job, crash at any house, find…something - i lost it along the way, i s'pose." he's more than happy to hear declan's story, his beam growing once again. "that's so cool. we'll definitely play sometime, and i'll definitely come and watch you too…" he affirms, biting into his bottom lip as he took in the other's apartment. it was a beautiful space, but what really made it alluring was the man who owned it. laughter falls from his throat, nodding his head, "yes boss…" he trails off, ready to follow declan to the bathroom. or, well, the end of the world to be honest.

[myjunipersjupiter]

It’s You

Pairing: Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x f!reader

Wordcount: 1.9k

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending

Warnings: Mentions of toxic relationship, Swearing

A/N: This is the first fanfic I ever made soo if there’s anything that doesn’t make sense or if Kyle is OOC than I apologize in advance. And also english is not my first language, if there are any mistakes please let me know.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

For the longest time now, I was convinced your boyfriend, Jonathan, was cheating on me. Ever since I joined 141 he seemed distant when I came home. Sometimes he wasn't even there, coming hours after I did. It's been like that for a few months now. I don't know what to do anymore. I haven't been home these past few weeks because of the current mission. After the weeks and even months, I was finally free to go home, I was packing my stuff from the base when Price knocked on my door.

"Come in." the simple sentence came out of my mouth as the door that was separating the two of us opened, revealing the one and only, Captain Price. He was like a father in my eyes, a father that I never had. Smiling softly at him, keeping the thoughts that were eating me from the inside out at the back of my head.

"Hey Medusa I wanted to ask if you wanted to go with us to the bar today around 10pm, to celebrate," He said, leaning on the side of the door, sweetly smiling at me, "and you can also bring your boyfriend with you. Everyone's partners are free to come." 

"Sure, I would love to. I'll let you know if he will come, but I will for sure." It was actually exciting, finally going somewhere that is not filled with dead bodies, even if I had to go by myself. I finished packing my stuff and said goodbye to everyone and made my way home.

After what felt like hours, I finally came. Seeing the lights in the living room on, it reminded me to ask him about today. I took my keys out of my pocket and unlocked the door, opening it. The first thing I saw was Jonathan on the couch watching a movie with a beer in his hand. No hi, no nothing.

“Well, hello to you too.” Sarcasm could be heard in my voice as I made my way inside, taking off my boots. 

“Hey.” He dryly stated, not even trying to look at me, keeping himself focused on the movie that was playing in front of him.

“I wanted to ask you if you wanted to come with me and others to the bar, they wanted to celebrate.” As I was looking at him, he turns around, uninterested.

“Sure.” 

“Okay, well then I’m going to get ready, you should too.” I told him as I made my way upstairs, a sigh escaping my mouth. It was like the same shit every time. I quickly showered, put on a little bit of makeup and dressed accordingly to the event. Looking over at the clock I noticed it’s already 9:20pm, I went downstairs to the living room, Jonathan smiling at his phone, already waiting for me, so we can go.

“Ok let’s go.” I put on my shoes, and together we left the house. The ride was silent, with few words occasionally exchanged and music playing in the background. It was a 30-minute ride, it went by quite fast. Stopping on the parking lot in front of the bar, I noticed some familiar cars standing there. We made our way inside hand in hand, pretending to look like a happy couple, we opened the door and see everyone sitting together enjoying themselves. My eyes met Kyle’s. He smiles at me and waves us over. 

“Hey everyone.” I greeted them as we sat with Jonathan. He shook hands with Price, they met each other before, well everyone met him at one point. I ordered myself (drink of your choice). I noticed Kyle looking at me from time to time. We were sitting opposite of each other. 

The first half an hour was great, we all talked, drank, celebrated and what not. Jonathan excused himself, not thinking much of it, I continued my conversation with everyone else. 

“Hey (Y/n), is everything okay between the two of you?” Priced leaned to me and whispered into my ear, he didn’t want to alert others.

“Don’t worry Cap. We are all good.” I told him with a smile on my face even tho I knew it was not true, nothing was good. I don’t remember the last time we were intimate or even just hugged. Not only that, but I missed the old him, our old relationship. Maybe if I didn’t join 141 it would still be the same, maybe it was all my fault, but this was not the time to pour my heart out about my confusing relationship. Kyle noticed the small interaction between me and Price. I jokingly winked at him, he started laughing as he looked the other way, the smile on his face slowly fading away as his eyes were locked on something behind me. I turned around, trying to find what he was looking at, but I kinda wish I didn’t. Jonathan and some chick at the bar, eating each others faces out. Everything stopped at that moment, I mean I shouldn’t be surprised, but the fact that my suspicions were right hurts, tears welling up in my eyes not daring to spill. The silence could be heard, our table was silent, everyone was looking between me and Jonathan, which he didn’t notice yet. Blinking away my tears, I stand up and make my way to where he was at. Pushing the bitch that was all over him off. He turned to me looking pissed off, the irony.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” 

“What am I doing?! Have you seen yourself? You have a girlfriend and here you are with some bitch you just fucking met!” I was hurt, betrayed. I didn’t want it to end like this.

“Well, maybe if you were home more often, I wouldn’t have to go around fucking other women!” Ouch. The words went straight through me, so it was my fault. I looked at him, trying to find some regret it his eyes, but there was nothing. I was standing in front of him, everyone in the bar was watching, this was too much. My hand making its way up, slapping him across the face.

“Go fuck yourself.” the echo of the slap could still be heard, I turned around, making eye contact with Kyle, he seemed sad.

“You fucking bitch! How dare you!” my back was facing Jonathan, bracing me from his words,

“I said. How. Dare. You.” He grabbed  me by my neck, turning me around to look at him. This was not the man I loved, this was a monster. No tears were in my eyes, I was pissed. 

“You deserve more than a slap, you son of a bitch.” my words spitting in his face. 

“You’re going to regret that, you stupid bitch!” 

“Oh no, she’s not.” Kyle. His voice was right behind me, Jonathan looking at him.

“And who are you to talk, hmm, Garrick? All you did was eye a woman that wasn’t even yours.” What did he mean by that? 

“Yeah because I know she deserves more than a cheating fuck, she deserves a real man.” This was the first time I was Kyle to be so angry. Feeling Jonathan’s grip on my neck loosen, I hit his hand away and start quickly walking away from everyone. It was raining outside, I sat on the first bench I saw, rain pouring all over me. The tears that were nowhere to be seen were now staining my cheeks. I couldn’t hold it in anymore, I started to cry. This night didn’t go as expected, it hurts. Every time I tried to close my eyes all I could see was Jonathan with the girl, the worst part was, she was prettier. I was too busy crying and thinking about what had just happened to notice someone sitting next to me, I looked up only when I felt a hand on my thigh. Kyle. 

“You know, you deserve better than him.” No, it was the other way around.

“No, he deserves more than me, he deserves someone that is not away most of the time.” I look at my thighs, his hand still there and his thumb rubbing my leg, trying to bring me at least a little bit of comfort. 

“You know that’s not true. If he really loved you, he wouldn’t cheat on you.”

“If I wasn’t away for months at a time, he wouldn’t have a reason to cheat.”

“No, that’s not how it works (Y/n). You deserve someone who will be there for you all the time, even if you are away for a few months. That would love you for you and wouldn’t have to even think about such things as other women.” He’s just trying to make me feel better.

“No one would want a girlfriend that is not home most of the time.” It was right, it would be better for the person to be single than have a partner like that.

“(Y/n), stop. It’s not true. And I know someone who would want a girlfriend like that… even if she’s not home most of the time.” I couldn’t see the small smile on his face as he finished his sentence. My eyes meet his as I look up.

“Sure, and who would that be, huh?” A sad laugh escaped my mouth as I averted my gaze. He didn’t answer, comfortable silence swallowing us both. I once again looked at him, his eyes already watching me. His hand squeezed my thigh as he got a little closer.

“Me.” He said with the softest voice, it was smooth and genuine. No words left my mouth, I was speechless. Maybe I did love Jonathan, maybe he was a bad person after all, but all this time I was so blinded by love that I couldn’t see Kyle. Jonathan’s words come back to me. ‘All you did was eye a woman that wasn’t even yours.’ Now it all made sense. He was always there for me, yet I didn’t see him. 

“Kyle I-“ 

“No, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way you know. Don’t worry.” His face painted a sad smile. It was just now that I noticed how gorgeous he looked. The light from the moon and the rain made him look like an angel. Words couldn’t even describe how he made me feel right now. The World stopped as we looked into each other's eyes. We were soaked from the rain, but we didn’t care. All I cared about was him, and all he cared about was me. My hand went to his cheek, stopping once it reached him, the hand that was on my thigh was now on my waist as the other one was slowly inching to my face. We were so close, yet so far. Our noses were now touching, feeling his breath hitting my face. 

“You didn’t even let me finish, Kyle.” The way I said it almost made our lips touch, but just almost. He chuckled.

“Then go on, gorgeous.” the nickname made my stomach turn upside down. 

“I love you too.” Even thought I just ended a relationship, I knew he meant what he said, and I was willing to go into it with him, with Kyle.

“You don’t even know how long I wanted to hear those words.” He pulled my body closer to his. And the moment we waited for finally happened, our lips met. His soft lips kissing mine. I melted into the kiss, wrapping my hands around his neck, bringing him even closer. I was so blinded by love that I never saw this beautiful man, but after all I’m glad I could see him now. My world is at peace, and nothing could ruin it now. Because you are there with me. 

[minthe-lover]

Chapter 221 Anaylsis

I'd admit that most of my problems with this chapter are art related, so I'm gonna just skip over like 80% of my critics of that so It doesn't get repetitive. It's mainly just creepy hades faces, and awkward proportions that make him look like a lego figure in stop motion. Like look at this guy... he looks so awkward and... god his ass is really tiny.

Now the big art thing that I am going to talk about is how the simplified one colour and one note backgrounds has caused rs to basically shoot herself in the foot. Cause in the first few chapters the backgrounds where detailed enough that we could really visuals all the important areas. Artemis's house, Hades house and the underworld corp while we aren't given like maps of them but we have a good idea of the layout and space...

with persephone new apartment.. we don't get that. It's all this dark blue, we get one shot of the outside and then a few undetailed shots of the inside. How many rooms does this have, is it big or small? hades says it looks rundown... but why aren't we shown that? They leave the apartment to eat on the roof almost immediately, is that cause persephone doesn't have a dining space in her apartment.. it just reallys annoy me.

Then the next shot in what I thought was the apartment... was actually hades, I think this chapter would really really benefit from a few shot focusing on persephones apartment. If needed remove the whole 'joke' of the billboard and instead show up persephone apartment and have them eat inside to better show Persephones kitchen. Side note with how last chapter went... how is she gonna treat her neighbors...

Now I've said this before that I'll say it again I do like persephone getting her own apartment. It's a good idea not to have hades and persephone immediately be a married couple.. but I really wish rs did more with this. Persephone has missed out on far more then just owning her own apartment.. she only did at most a month of collage it would really help to show more that persephone is trying to be independent.

Now I just want to draw attention to this line.. and just the massive amount of disrespect it levels at hecate, while yes she was not technically queen.. but like come on hades. She's been helping you since you stared at king, she did most of the research and work in the last few chapters. She may not have shared the title but it's clear she was doing a fuck ton of work.

Lets talk about the most annoying line in this whole chapter! Just to make one thing clear persephone you where not coddled, you where a CHILD. Demeter was making sure you had an education and a safe place to grow up first before making you work! that is a completely understandable thing.. and the moment you were over 18 demeter let you go... she was worried for your safety in a world that has repeatedly abuse her and you've proven yourself in the past that you put your trust in the wrong individualizes.

You then had one conversation in ten years where demter outwardly praised out about how great you were doing… You didn't even talk about what you could do in the mortal realm. Before then you didn't have any experience and again were a collage student .. not exactly someone fit to step up to a important job like that… Like from the few flashback to the punishment.. it's clear you were struggling.

Also this line and how much it annoys me in relationship to demeter, because it's constantly brought up terrible demeter is for hiding stuff like the fertility goddess power from persephone as how she is bad and irredeemable... and when I was first read it I thought that is what it was referring to. I read it as people hid stuff from persephone to protect her... but persephone admiting that she understands it's a struggle, and that hades isn't a bad guy for hiding shit from her but you know her own mother doing stuff to protect her is a terrible person.

Now I want to get these analysis out before the next chapter does... so yeah this isn't as detailed or longer but.. eh.

[hiraethenthusiast]

The Hollandairé | t.h.

pairing: ceo!tom x ceo! reader

word count: 16k+

synopsis: exes cross paths on a big event. will they be able to forget each other's mistakes?

warnings: language, sexual innuendos, mentions of an anxiety attack (if you squint), talks about miscarriage, my favourite angst.

a/n: well, well, well im back from a very shitty writers block! look at me, writing angst with exes? oof. can you tell that i absolutely love angst and makeouts in the end? i was somehow inspired by 'idfc' by blackbear to write this fic lol. it took some time and ofcourse i went overboard with it, so hope you enjoy! don't forget to like and reblog! (i even made a moodboard kinda thing uwuwu)

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"Conan I won't hesitate to knee you in the crotch if you don't stop pulling me off this sofa right this second" You tell your roommate, who is desperately trying to get you to go to a gala with him. Being a CEO brings its pros and cons. Pros being, you have a private jet, you're your own boss and you can shout at people with a reason. Cons being, annoyingly nice roommates. You had just shifted to a penthouse in downtown London with your friend Conan, because you refused to stay alone in this bigass house. (You tried living alone once, you were bored to death)

"Conan leave me alone yoo!" You said whining and hunching back into the sofa.

"Get the fuck up and get ready for the launch dude you promised me you wouldn't leave me hanging" Conan shouts over the voice of the t.v. blaring in the background. You pull you hand away from his grip and reach for the remote to shut off the t.v., focusing back on this tall red-headed figure in front of you.

"You know I don't like fancy shit." You grumble.

"It's YOUR fancy shit, get up Y/N." He says and reaches for your arms now, finally making you stand.

"Call Laura, I really don't want to go." You say pulling your phone out from your back pocket and handing it to him.

"If you haven't realised, your manager is the one who forced me to force you to attend the introduction of your fashion line" He fights back.

"- and Y/N. Hey, look at me. You've dreamt of this for how long? Almost all your life. And if you miss the chance to see your empire expand, it's gonna be devastating. You'll obviously miss the fashion show who's got the actual Rudy Pankow walking on a ramp, you'll also miss the opportunity to see people happy with YOUR work. Now get your ass up and get ready." He says and leaves the room, to get ready himself.

It's not that you don't want to go, you really do. Afterall, all of it is your hardwork. But the reason you're not going is because of that asshole. That asshole with whom you used to go out with once, the one who's current goal is to bring you down. The one and only, Tom Holland. You two used to date at some point, the ones who were in love actually, but the rivalry you two have got going on now has lead to you two knowing too much about each other. More than you know about yourself, the other knows it all. Small arguments turned into big ones, that eventually lead to the two of you leaving each other alone. You don't want to go because whenever you meet him, it all turns up into a big mess and your night is typically ruined, and you weren't in the mood for that, atleast not today. He's just a narcissistic bitch who thinks of nothing but degrading you. And that's the reason you don't want to go. Because you know if you talk to him one more time, these banters will persuade you.

But you do realise that you have to go. You have to go because you haven't gone to the last two launches for your perfume and swim line as well, and if you don't go today, Laura will actually end you.

So you just chug all your tea, leaving the kitchen with a grunt to go get ready.

"Hey Marco, can you send in that pantsuit I got done the other day? Look over for modifications if possible, although it looks great in just the solid colour, and please get it drycleaned." You tell your designer over the phone, to which he agreed and you go into your room to get your hair and makeup done.

"Wear a dress to the launch of your fashion line when it gets famous, yeah?"

"Pantsuits all the way Holland, you know I hate dresses."

"I know you do."

You remember the faint memory from over two years ago, that dream actually coming true, just without the person you dreamt it with.

You put your hair in a low bun with a middle part, giving you a classy formal look, and you do a almost non existent makeup look, only your eyes bold to accent with your outfit. Marco drops off the forest green pantsuit at your house, you giving it a twist with wearing a lace corset beneath the blazer.

"I look hot." You told yourself.

You and Conan leave for the event, you fidgeting in between 15 minute durations, Conan reassuring you that he'll be with you until the night ends.

That didn't last long. You lost Conan as soon as you entered the venue, so you occupied yourself with having conversations with other company owners, hearing how they're doing in the industry, blah blah blah.

"Do I look like I care?" You say to yourself.

You move ahead, only to cross paths with the one and only. He was wearing a cherry coloured perfectly tailored suit, adding a hint of Tom with the glasses. He looked good.

"And what do I owe this pleasure, Ms. Y/N?" He says, twirling his champagne glass in his hands.

"Look Holland I really don't have time for this shit, please take a goodie bag on your way home" You say with a bit of sass and start to move away, only to get your arm held back, making you bump in his chest.

"I see you wore the pantsuit you always wanted to wear at your event, angel " He says, making you pull away from him.

"Don't ever call me that again, and this is a warning." You were about to continue further with your answer, but you were utterly shocked to see the person in front of you.

"Is that the Y/N Y/L/N, in person, the one who's way too busy to answer my phone calls?" He says, making you laugh a bit.

"Jaeden?" You say, laughing heartily.

"In the flesh, tigeress." He says, doing grabby hands at you as an indication to pull you in a hug. You oblige and walk towards him and give him the biggest bear hug you've given anyone in two years. You pull back just to hit him on the chest once, playfully ofcourse.

"Tigeress. Oof haven't heard that in a while" You keep your conversation going on with Jaeden, while Tom is absolutely dumbfounded about whatever just happened in these past few seconds.

There's this hot guy named Jason or whatever, who calls you 'tigeress' and you aren't pestering him for calling you with a nickname but you definitely were ready to give Tom a piece of your mind when he called you 'angel'? Who is this guy?

Tom goes off to find Conan, who was situated at the bar downing a shot of tequila.

"Hey who's that guy Jason?" He asks him, pointing towards you and Jaeden in the middle of the hall.

"You mean Jaeden?" He says, biting onto a slice of lemon.

"Yeah whatever who is he?" Tom asks again, turning towards to bartender asking for a glass of whiskey.

"Why do you want to know?" Conan shoots back.

"Just curious. Can you just fucking tell me now?" Tom tries again, getting frustrated now.

"Chill dude. Jaeden used to work with Y/N a long time ago. He had this crush on her for like forever, but then Y/N went in for entrepreneurship and they were just not in contact with each other." He says.

"Crush huh?" Tom says, gripping onto his glass so tight that his knuckles almost turned white.

"Why do you look like you're about to murder someone?" Conan asks, getting concerned.

"Because I might." Tom says, grinding his teeth while forcing a smile.

The night goes by pretty smoothly, for you. You and Jaeden were clinged to each other almost the whole night, and then Tom watching you both from a distance, trying not to snap hard at people. He just took enough of it, he had to do something. He wasn't really sure why was he jealous, 'maybe because you love her' his heart said, but his mind crossing paths with a 'no you don't' in the middle. He was in a dilemma, but was mostly leaning towards his heart's side. He finally got up from his seat and walked towards you.

"Y/L/N." He says, keeping his composure.

"Yes?" You turn around to come face to face with him, laughing on something Jaeden had said.

"Board of Directors want to meet you on third floor. I was going that way only, wanted to inform you." He says.

"Oh okay. Jaeden I'll be back in a few. And tell me about that Mario Kart incident." You say, your laughter dying as you walk towards the elevator, motioning Tom to move as well. You both enter the elevator and you click the button for third floor.

"So Jaeden's a long lost friend, I assume?" He tries to small talk, failing miserably.

"Yeah, I used to work with him a long time back. Why do you ask?" You say, being the nicest you've been to Tom in two years.

"Just making small talk. So, exactly how long ago, you used to work with him?" He tries again.

"A really long time ago." You tell him.

"When we were dating?" He says, hesitating.

The elevator dings and you reach third floor, both of you moving into a very empty hallway.

"Why do you care Tom?" You say, making him frustrated even more.

"Because you're my fucking ex-girlfriend whom I'm worried about because that asshole has a mega crush on you" He says, making you jerk your head towards him.

"How many whiskeys have you had?" You ask him, because he was sounding oblivious that's for sure.

You turn around to open the meeting room to find it empty, making you glare at Tom once again.

"Why the fuck did you bring me up here Holland, where's the meeting?" You say, narrowing your eyes towards him.

"There is no meeting Y/N, the Board didn't show up this year, remember?" He says moving and fidgeting around the room.

"Then why did you bring me up here, dumbass?" That put him over the edge. He starts walking towards you making you take a few steps back, finally cornering you in the room.

"Because that guy is fucking flirting with you Y/N. That guy has been roaming around the whole night with my girl, touching and hugging my girl in front of me and you expect me to keep my calm? Huh? I don't fucking care okay? You're supposed to be mine and I was a jerk who let you go. I can't stand seeing you with other people. What the fuck is wrong with you Y/N, why did you leave me?!" He shouts at you, making your blood boil even more.

You push him back and stand in front of him, glaring as if you were going to rip his head off.

"No Tom, YOU left me, alright? I cried almost every night after that day when you left, and you didn't even have the empathy to give me a call. You, are too self-absorbed, and not me Tom. It was all you. I haven't been to even one of my launches just because I know you'll be there, you'll be there to put me down again. And why the fuck do you care about whom I talk to huh?" You shout at him.

"Why would I come to every single one of your launches Y/N?! To see you! To see the person who understood me more than I did, just to fucking see your face and calm my nerves!" He shouts back. He moves towards you and holds you chin to put your eyes at his eye level.

"Look at me Y/N. Look at me. Did we mean anything to you? Did I mean anything to you? Look at me in the eyes and tell me you never loved me. Tell me I meant nothing to you and I'll leave this second. Tell me that this was all a lie." He says, making your eyes water.

"You know I can't tell you that."

"Then why do you keep hurting me Y/N?! You hurt me so much! You left me when I needed you the most! I wanted you and you weren't there-" He shouts again.

"SHUT UP TOM, SHUT UP! Stop it! Stop! Please. Stop." You're crying hysterically now, hunching up in a corner trying to calm yourself down. Tom immediately sees it and runs towards you holding your hands and cradling them.

"Hey, hey Y/N. Look at me, look at me baby. It's Tom. Hey baby. I'm here, yeah? I'm here. Stop crying come on babe, please. Love, look at me. I'm here." He says, now running his hand over your cheeks wiping your tears.

"Go away. Go away from me." Is all you say, which makes his ears perk and brings water to his eyes.

He stands up and moves out of the room, closing the door just to hear you crying again. He sits down on the floor with his back on the door now, crying, waiting for you to say something.

"Please, open the door." He says, bursting into tears and hugging himself with his arms, wishing it was you.

Fifteen minutes pass by and you still haven't said anything. Tom misses you so much, and it was so fucked up of you to leave him like this. He was hurt, but he could never stop loving you. Ever.

"Losing you would be a nightmare that I'd beg to be awaken from everyday." You say opening the door, your eyes blood red, hair disheveled making Tom look at you, whose eyes were blood red too.

"What?"

"I was pregnant, Tom." You tell him, making his eyes widen and holding your hand for comfort.

"The day-" You clear your throat "The day we fought is when we lost the baby. I was going to tell you I was pregnant that day, but then that happened." You were crying a bit more now, but still held you composure so you can handle Tom from now.

"The argument gave me too much stress and, and it was affecting the baby so as soon as you left, um, my stomach started aching really badly and, and yeah we lost our baby then. That's why I left." You say, you were crying on his shoulder now, intentionally ignoring his reaction because you knew it would hurt him.

"We, we- lost our baby?" He says, a bit shocked but choking on his tears. You remain silent.

"Hey, hey. Listen. It's okay. It wasn't your fault. It was mine. I shouldn't have fought with you. You were already really worried and I just added onto your pressure. I'm so sorry baby I'm so so sorry." He was full-on crying now, he sniffled in your neck because he was too afraid to show his emotions.

"It wasn't your fault Tommy, it was ours." You say, running your hand in his curls. The way you missed his chestnut curls. It was all good again, well atleast you hoped.

Tommy. That always brought butterflies in his stomach.

You talked everything out in the bathroom, while washing your faces and cleaning up. You both understood that everything was going back to normal, just like the old times. One conversation lead to another, and you spent two hours on the bathroom floor just laughing and having gossip.

"It's been a while." You say laughing, looking at your watch.

"Yeah."

"Why did you say 'my girl' Tom?" You ask him directly.

"Hm?"

"You called me 'my girl' in the conference room. Why?" You tell him, and he instantly remembers that he did do that.

"You're in my head almost everyday Y/N. Even when you're not supposed to be. It shouldn't have been this hard letting go, but it was. I still love you, even if you don't." He says, taking some tissue paper off the counter.

"Who said I don't love you?" You say, making his eyes widen.

"Wha- wh- what are you implying here?" He stumbles upon his words, making you laugh.

"I still love you, you goof."

"Y/N you have to be serious you're making me want things I can't have." He says wholeheartedly.

You say nothing but grab him by his collar and kiss him with full force. After two years, you felt those soft lips on yours again, reminiscing every moment you had missed in these past years. They felt the same, soft and plump, just as if they were made for you. They fit in with yours like a puzzle, that was meant to be solved by these two hearts which were tangled, but now, in a right way. Tom kissed back almost immediately, feeling your lips was like a dream come true. A recurrent dream in his mind. You both pull back to see red and puffy lips and give out a light laugh. He doesn't stop, he keeps leaving peppery kisses all over your face mumbling sweet words again and again.

"I missed you so, so much angel." he says leaving a kiss on your nose.

"I missed you too bubba." you say leaving a small peck on his lips.

"Let's go now, we've been here for almost two hours." You start to move towards the door, but get pulled back by your waist.

"Tell Jaeden to maintain distance, yeah?" He says.

"Or what?" You say in a playful tone.

"Babygirl, I think you've forgotten what I'm capable of." He says, kissing your neck.

"I think I have. And stop kissing me I look shit." You say, laughing.

"I really don't care. You still look hot and I'm trying not to kiss you senseless right now." He says leaving another harsh suck on your skin, which can hopefully be covered by your blazer.

"Are you going to eyefuck me all night or are you going to do something about it?" You say, now kissing Tom's sweet spot.

"Finish this event in the next half an hour. I'll see you at my house babe." He says leaving one last peck on your lips.

You both reach downstairs after fixing your makeup and hair, you reach upto the stage and and hold onto the mic.

"Thankyou all for attending the event. We look forward to having more business with you! Don't forget to post something about our line 'The Hollandairé' on your social media platforms and don't forget to tag us! We are, The Y/L/N's thankyou have a good night!"

He listen to you and smirks to himself, because you do do what you say.

"I'm going to name my first fashion line 'The Hollandairé' " You say making a banner with your hands.

"And I'll be right with you then baby" He says, kissing your cheek.

Looks like he kept his promise too.

tagging some friends whom i think would like to read!:

@hollandslittlekoala @hollandsmushroom @leafy-holland @tomsoxytocin @scarletspideyy @t-lostinworlds

(pls do tell me if you don't want to be tagged further on!)

don't forget to reblog!

ilysmmmm. tpwk y'all!

[poguestvff]

Used To The Cold — S. Cameron

In which Sarah Cameron comes to a realization after her girlfriend moves across the country.

taglist | main masterlist | 2.0k words

warning(s): none, fluff, i heart sarah <33

Have you ever lost something that held either so many memories or brought a sort of happiness that just warmed you immediately even at the sight of it? Most people have something like that. Such as for children when it comes to losing stuffed animals or action figures that were a source of comfort, they missed it like hell. Said children grow up and look for a new source of comfort. Some teenagers found it in weed and alchohol, others in sports. For Sarah Cameron, she grew out of the beautiful pink blanket her father had gotten her as a toddler. As she grew into a teenager, she found a new solace.

Her girlfriend.

Sarah made it very apparent to show her love to her girlfriend who, at one point, was just her best friend who she could hardly even bare to be away from. Sarah had known she'd loved Y/n before they even got together by the way Sarah had never felt claustrophobic in the friendship that she held with the other girl. She said the three words within the first six months of being with her, words she had never spoken to another being other than her family. It was a word she, personally, took seriously. For her to say it to Y/n showed the amount of trust she held within her. Trust to not feel so closed off with Y/n.

At the beginning of the relationship, Sarah was glad that not much had changed between the two of them. That Y/n let her have her space whenever she needed it without the dependent need to be together all day though it quickly became backwards. Sarah grew even more clingy to Y/n, hardly able to deal without her hands being stuck to her girlfriend like glue. Whenever they went out to lunch, Sarah played a one sided game of footsies that only brought a smile upon Y/n’s features, one of Sarah’s favorite traits about her. Sarah loved the idea of always having a person to call her own, Y/n seeming to be the one person who could bring out her newfound touchiness. Though, sometimes she pondered on whether Y/n herself was even handling it or if she just ‘put up’ with it. If she did have an indifference towards Sarah’s actions, she surely never showed her disinterest in it.

Though the last time Sarah had held on to her girlfriend felt soul crushing and gut wrenching. As the two of them stood on the creaky, wooden dock just before the ferry, Sarah felt drained. Between the amount of crying she’d done in just the past few days had been enough to make her want to sleep forever and the comfort of her girlfriends arms around her hadn’t helped that feeling. Tears held a steady stream down both of their faces though Sarah was the one who was unable to contain her sobs. People passed around them, solemn looks given to the two of them as they listened in on the sniffles and soft wails.

Y/n didn’t need to be a genius to understand that this was twice as hard for Sarah as it would be for her. Y/n was leaving, miles away that Sarah couldn’t even pin on when the next time she’d being able to hold on to her would be. All she knew was that this embrace that Y/n held on her would be the last one for months and there wasn’t a thing that would be able to make up for it between now and then.

It evoked an indescribable sort of fear within Sarah but she knew it was immutable. If Sarah could, she'd even drop her whole life within Outer Banks to follow her girlfriend across the world. There wasn't much Sarah wouldn't do and there wasn't much Y/n wouldn't do for Sarah either, including the moving date having already been pushed back a month because of Y/n's several arguments with her parents.

"I don't want you to go." sarah whispered as y/n kissed her neck. She could hear the blonde's pained and wavering voice, how affected she already was even as Y/n hadn't even stood on the boat yet.

"I know, lover." the y/h/c girl spoke in a low tone, only sarah able to hear her words of affirmation. Y/n was first to pull back, placing her hands on Sarah's cheeks. The sight of Sarah with puffy eyes and a quivering lip made y/n's heart throb and a guilty feeling blanket over her like a raising tide. "i'll visit. Every chance I get, you know I will."

"It won't be the same." she lamented. Y/n placed her lips against Sarah’s, delicately as if the blonde were made of porcelain. When Y/n's parents had called for her and Ward and Rose had called Sarah away from the dock, Sarah only seemed to want to cling further, fingers pressing further into the thin jacket Y/n worse, but their time had finally run out. Even after weeks of pretending that they had all the time in the world, like nothing could pull the two of them apart, it had happened.

The first few weeks, the whole Cameron house had known Sarah spent most of her nights crying herself to sleep and the entire Y/l/n house knew Y/n was not going to be speaking to them for a little while due to their newest decision. Both groups of parents hadn't known that pulling the duo away from one another would become such a quagmire for each of them.

When Y/n did finally decide to talk to her parents, it was usually to say she was leaving to explore the area in which she refused to get to know the first few days. With a driver license, it gave her just a bit of freedom from her parents who's impromptu decisions had still caused for a tearing in their familial relationship.

Y/n sat in her parked car, a hot beverage in hand to adjust to the cold in which she'd just stood in for five minutes. All of it for a drink that wasn't even that good in her opinion but she dealt with it. With the hand not holding the steaming drink, she opened her phone, smiling immediately at the photo of her and sarah as her background. She unlocked it, scrolling around to find Sarah's contact and setting her phone up against the dashboard. While it began to ring, Y/n situated herself to begin to drive. "Hi, Y/n/n!" Sarah shouted excitedly the second she'd answered.

At her tone of voice did Y/n laugh. The enthusiasm was no surprise but it was funny to Y/n every time. "Hi, baby." She replied, fhe smile remaining on her face as she looked towards the screen. Sarah sat at her desk, her hands under her jaw though a pencil between her fingers. She had focused all of her attention from the papers in front of her to the driver on the other end of the phone. "What are you doing?"

The sound of whizzing paper had made Y/n glance to the phone seeing a math sheet now replacing Sarah's face before she placed it back down, a frown appearing on her features. "Math."

"Didn't you just start like two days ago?" Y/n asked, taking a sip from her drink.

"Yes and this teacher is an absolute bitch. You're just lucky you don't start for another week. You would hate Mr. Henley."

Y/n let out an awfully dramatic gasp. "Um, hello, Mr. Henley was literally my home room teacher last year, I'll have you know. Show some respect." She said, almost missing Sarah's chagrined look as she smiled.

"You're supposed to be on my side here."

"Sorry, i don't believe in biases, Sar." She joked for sarah to let out a small snicker.

"So tell me, how's minnesota?" Sarah asked, trying to spark up a conversation even if the distance was the same thing she wanted to keep her mind off of.

"Oh, it's so great. So many hot people." she remarked.

"You're not funny, no one has ever found you funny." Sarah replied though unable to hold in her laugh along with her girlfriend. "I'm serious. we haven't talked much about it and i don't want to like... avoid your new life now."

Y/n sighed, looking towards the phone to see Sarah looking back down at her work in front of her. "Fine. Well, it doesn't particularly suck. The no surfing part definitely does, though, but what can you do. And the coffee here... no, its just so bad, babe. granted, i only had one, and it's in my cup holder right now but it's gross."

"My coffee making is better, right?" Sarah asked as Y/n gave a hefty nod.

"So much better, even if it is the only thing you're good at making." Y/n laughed and Sarah attempted to refuse a smile, her cheeks quivering from trying to keep it down. "But the weather dropped today, randomly. It was seventy yesterday, fifty today but i think i'm getting used to the cold."

Sarah lifted her head back to the phone, watching Y/n focus on driving, her eyes diverting on places away from the screen. Sarah but at her inner cheek, drumming her fingers against the white wood that rested under her forearms. "Used to it?" Sarah asked. She knew Y/n's move was permanent at least until she was eighteen but something about those words made it seem more realistic. She was getting used to a place that wasn't home.

Y/n hummed. "Yeah, i'm probably being dramatic. I saw a guy walking around in a tank top and shorts while i'm wearing double pair of socks right now." she grinned at her own comment though picking up on Sarah's sudden discomfort when she replied with a small 'wow'. "Lover?"

"Yeah?"

"What's going on?" Y/n asked, the car slowing to a stop at a red light.

Sarah quickly shook her head. "No, it's nothing. Just... the work. Keep your eye on the road."

"Sarah." The blond recognized the tone of voice quickly.

"Just... I just fully realized how permanent this is. I won't see you until, what? December? That's a long time, Y/n! And, i get it, it's your home now and i can't do anything about it but—"

Y/n was quick to cut her off. "I never said this is home. Sure I live here but it's just a couple walls and a roof. It's not home, Sarah." Y/n began. "Home is you. And trust me, i've been missing home the second i got on that ferry."

Despite them having to look at one another through a glass screen the feeling—the connection between the two of them was still felt. Sarah could feel the normal warm feeling she would've gotten whenever Y/n would simply hold her hand or brush her hair over her ear. she held that much of an effect on Sarah in person and somehow even thousands of miles away.

Sarah hadn't even realized she had been staring for a total of twenty seconds until a singular tear fell down her blushing cheeks. she quickly sniffled, recomposing herself as she wiped it away. "Are you seriously making me cry right now?" She muttered with the way the atmosphere had become though relishing in the way Y/n laughed in response.

"Yes, thank you for ignoring everything i just said, lover." Y/n put the car back in drive as the light went green. Due to the steets being relatively empty in her new small town, she took the time to look back over at the phone to Sarah. "I love you."

Sarah's smile widened in thag very moment, pursing her lips before pushing them out. "I love you more."

"And don't worry. I won't get to used to it. I'll be back home, to you, before you even know it." Y/n took a small glance to the phone, enjoying Sarah's gaze that showed even with the distance put between the two of them, they'd be fine.

[atalho-s]

Light Up The Dark

Part 2 | We are accidents waiting to happen

pairing: bartender!tom x famous!reader

warnings: smut +18 miniors dni, swear words?, drinking, let me know if anything else!

words: 5.0 k

a/n: english it’s not my first language, so i’m sorry for any mistake! I don’t have a taglist yet, but if you want to be tagged in the next chapters let me know!! 

PART 2 if you want to read part 1 click here! 

It was already Saturday. The day Y/n took for herself. Writing was extraordinary, but she loved having a day off to take care of herself. She spent the day doing things she enjoyed, whether it was lying in bed watching a movie or trying to cook something.

After the fateful day of writer's block she started writing like crazy, so she didn't feel guilty about taking a day off without thinking about her characters and how they would get out of the challenges she had created for them.

The fateful day. For some reason she kept thinking about that damned Brit with that accent. For a moment she'd been scared that she'd been seen by paparazzi hanging out with the mysterious bartender, or even some picture of him leaving her apartment. But nothing came out in the news on the gossip sites, which made her relieved.

As much as she deserved to have fun once in a while and wasn't doing anything wrong, she still didn't want to bring attention to herself and even less to a guy who wasn't even famous. She was afraid to put anyone who wasn't famous in the media. Fear that one day suddenly, this person might be persecuted because of her.

Anyway, it had just been a crazy night. Nothing much. And she didn't intend to see him again. So she had nothing to worry about.

Sitting down in the kitchen counter with her familiar cup of coffee she got lost in some thoughts. Why hadn't she stopped thinking about him ever since? It had been a great night, but that was all. She didn't even know him well.

Maybe it was because her creative block had been broken after being with him. But obviously it was just a coincidence. She had just felt inspired after a distraction.

She shook his head away from the thoughts and placed the cup in the sink. She took a deep breath and thought about what to do next. But before she could think of anything else her cell phone started ringing on the counter. She was almost jump by the sudden sound, seeing the screen indicating that it was Milla, her agent, who had become one of her best friends.

- Hi Mil! - she said after sliding the screen.

- Good morning baby. - she said on the other end of the line. - Ready for the party?

- Party? What a party? - Y/n asked confused starting to wash the small amount ofdishes she had soiled.

- How you don't know? I thought I sent you the invitation on your email and I even sent you a message!

- Bestie, I haven't seen my email or message for days. I was super focused on the book, my writer's block finally went away.

- Really? I knew that would go away! You were worried for nothing. What did you do to go back to writing? - Milla asked and Y/n smiled a little.

- Well... I just went out to chill out a bit...Nothing much.

- Y/n getting out on weekdays? And even on the days you're writing a book? That's what I call grow. - she said and Y/n rolled her eyes laughing. - I'm even afraid to invite you to parties, because I know when you're writing you hate to go out... But it's good to know that you're getting out of your routine a little...

- Yeah, sometimes it's good to breathe new air. - Y/n replied drying his hands on a towel. - But what party are you talking about?

- A party of none other than Emma Brown. - Y/n snorted. Emma Brown was a great actress who to tell the truth she didn't know much, she only knew her from a couple of her movies, but other than that she didn't know much about her.

But what she did know was that she had some also famous friends of questionable taste. They were those famous people who only knew about money, women, cars and mansions. But she was tipped for a theatrical adaptation of one of her books and she wanted everything to come out perfect. She was very afraid the movie would end up ruining her work.

- Do I really have to go? - She asked in a tearful voice.

- Yes you have! It's going to be a really fancy birthday party for her, all the famous people in the industry are going to be there. You know you have to socialize with these people. Who knows, you can make some important friendships...

- Milla... I don't know... I don't need important friendships. I don't need anyone to stand up or approach others for interest.

- I know you don't need anyone for that... I just meant that you're very isolated, you need to make connections, understand? I know it's hard because you hate all that fame and stuff. But if you want the adaptation of your story to be good, there's no way... Besides, one of the great directors you left me on the list to research will be there too. So it would be really cool to kill two birds with one stone. - Milla said and Y/n sighed. She was right, if she wanted everything to work out she had to at least have a conversation with these people. It would be weird to refuse Emma's invitation to her birthday. It would just show that she was uninterested.

- Okay... You won ok? - She said and Milla gave an excited squeal. - But I won't stay long!

- Okay, okay... Just for you to go is great! Andrew will be there shortly for you to choose a dress. -Andrew was her stylist and she practically jumped every time Y/n had an important event, because it was rare for her to go. Good thing he didn't just have her as a client, because otherwise he'd be bored out of his mind for a long time.

- Okay Mil, thank you... I love you! - She said and Milla said goodbye hanging up the phone.

It was late afternoon when Andrew arrived at her apartment with several suitcases and bags in both hands. He really had brought up thousands of options. But Y/n ended up choosing a slightly shiny black dress that went just above the knee with a V-neck. Something cute, but nothing too fancy.

He did her makeup. Which wasn't too heavy either, as she hated things that were too heavy on her face. Finally she put on a mid-heeled sandal in the same color as the dress and her sparkly earrings. Before Andrew left her apartment satisfied with the result.

It was almost 7:30 pm when a black car that would take her to the party location arrived in front of her building and she got out enter the backseat right after. She was apprehensive. She hated socializing to tell the truth. Large crowds and cameras really made her anxious.

After almost 20 minutes the car stopped in front of what appeared to be a large gate. Several paparazzi showed up and started taking pictures of her car surrounding her or even tapping on the window a little, asking her if she could talk to them. Which she obviously ignored. The driver introduced himself to the doorman and he opened the gate letting the car pass and stop in front of a luxurious mansion.

Some people were coming in and others were standing in front talking. She saw that there were some familiar faces of the media. Actresses, actors, singers, famous people of every imaginable type.

She opened the car door and walked out towards the large entrance. She smiled at a few people, nodding her head as she passed and found herself in a crowd of people as she entered the place. There really were a lot of people, despite the place being even bigger inside. Many with fancy drinks in hand and chatting. A song playing on the background.

She walked deeper into the room and took a quick look around trying to find the birthday girl. After a few minutes she found her near one of the sofas. Y/n walked over and stopped beside her, causing Emma to stop her conversation with two more people and look at her.

- Happy Birthday! - Y/n said in the friendliest way possible and Emma smirked and hugged her lightly afterwards.

- Thank you! Glad you came! - she said, breaking out of the hug after a few seconds.

- Your party is very beautiful, I loved the decoration. - Y/n said looking around. Indeed Emma had decorated the place in a simple way, but at the same time fancy and beautiful.

- Oh thank you... - she said, still smiling. - I'm very happy that you accepted my invitation, we have a lot to talk about since maybe we'll work together, right?

- No problem, obviously I would come... - Y/n said and almost punched herself because she was very fake in saying that. - But we really have to talk!

- Well, I was talking to Jim just now... I can give you his number later... He's a great director and I think it would be great for your adaptation... - Emma said and Y/n thought that she was really interested in that adaptation, because she was even talking to the possible renowned director, which surprised her. She thought Emma was a little more oblivious to her books and even movie stuff. She thought she was one of those famous actresses who expected others to come after her, not being interested in the work itself, but only on the fame and money. - We love your book! I think it has great potential for a grand adaptation.

- Wow, that is good to hear! Thanks a lot! - Y/n said sincerely this time. - I'll love talking to him too...

- Sure! - She looked behind Y/n and motioned to someone from far away. - Hey Jim! You can come here? - She asked speaking loudly for him to hear and Y/n turned around watching the director approaching after saying goodbye to someone. He wasn't much older than she thought, maybe in his early thirties, he wore a small beard that fit his face and short hair, but with curls that jutted out around his head. -That's Y/n... Y/n that's Jim...-Emma said when he got in front of her and Jim held out his hand with a smile.

- Nice to meet Y/n, we finally met... - he said and Y/n shook his hand also smiling.

- Nice to meet you Jim! - She said and Emma sat in one of the armchairs indicating for the two to sit, which they did next.

- Do you two want something to drink? Champagne?- Emma asked and they both accepted as she motioned for someone from far away to bring them.

- Well, I found your book very intriguing Y/n... I can say I haven't slept for a while... - Jim said laughing a little and Y/n smiled. - It's a very well written story, I loved the plots and it has a great resolution. I think I would make a good 2 hour movie with all this material... - he said and Y/n paid attention until something took her a little out of focus. Something not. Somebody.

It was the waiter, and not just any waiter. It was Tom. He came into her vision and she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Maybe it was a mirage or she was mistaking him for someone else. But when he approached she was sure it was him. He came with a tray with drinks in one hand. He was wering a white dress shirt, with black pants. The typical pattern of a fancy party waiter. But he was beautiful. Y/n felt a shiver for a moment and tried to hide it by looking back at Jim who was still talking about his plans for the possible movie.

Maybe Tom didn't even remember her. She was just a one-night stand, he should do that with a lot of girls out there, so it wasn't something new to him. As soon as he arrived, he handed one of the glasses to Emma beside her and Y/n felt her breath quicken a little. She didn't know why she was so nervous. It was just a waiter she had slept with a few days ago.

- Excuse me... - he said and Y/n looked up at him quickly seeing that he was right in front of him. -Here it is miss...-he said looking her in the eyes and then winking at her, wich almost make her shrink in her chair. He held out the tray for her to take one of the glasses and she did, looking away at Jim.

- So, what do you think? - Jim asked taking the glass from the tray and Y/n took a sip of his surprise drink.

- Sorry? - She asked guiltily for having been distracted.

- About us meeting and having a meeting next week? That way I can show you my idea better. - he said and Y/n smiled.

- Of course, that would be great! - she said and Tom walked away not looking in her direction again, which left her disappointed for a second. She would going to love looking into those eyes again.

- Perfect! - Jim replied excitedly and started talking about other things as well as Emma.

They talked for almost an hour, until Emma went to talk to other people and Jim said he was leaving as he had some work in the morning. Y/n sat for a while and finished drinking the last of her champagne and placed it on the table in front of her.

She thought about leaving. She had already done the important interactions for the night. So, she had no reason to stay there. But she kept thinking about the damn waiter. Would it be weird to go talk to him? Maybe just say hi? But she doubted he would want to talk to her. Besides, he was working. She didn't want to get in his way.

Getting up from her chair and straightening her dress, she forced her steps towards the exit, but stopped midway as she saw Tom walking into what appeared to be the kitchen with the tray tucked under his arm. She looked at the exit door and sighed. Okay, if she went to him just to say hi, it wouldn't hurt would it?

Y/n turned and headed in the direction that Tom had gone. She couldn't even believe she was doing it this. She would looked ridiculous in his eyes. But she choose to ignore the little voice of reason again. Passing by a few people, and walking out into a empty hallway, she opening a single door at end. She closed in behind her and turned to see that Tom was on his back piling some boxes in a corner. His muscles in that outfit made her feel tempted somehow, so she swallowed hard. He turned at the sound of the door closing and looked at her with a mixture of confusion and curiosity.

- Looking for something madam? - He asked with a smirk.

- Actually... - Y/n thought of some excuse, maybe it would be better, so it would seem that she was there for something else and not for him. - Yeah... I was looking for the bathroom, I think I take the wrong direction...

- Yeah...Actually, the bathroom is on the other side of the hallway... - he said leaning against the kitchen counter and looking her up and down, making her feel completely vulnerable. After his eyes roamed her legs and bust, they came to her face and he grinned.

- Okay, I'll... - Y/n started saying and turned around taking a few steps. But she stopped midway, closing his eyes, tearing himself apart from the inside out of embarrassment. She turned around again seeing that he was still watching her, now with his arms crossed over his chest, wondering what she would do next. - You remember me don't you? - She asked fearfully.

- Of course I remember darling... - he said, practically intensifying his accent in that nickname that was so perfect in his voice. Y/n took a few steps forward also crossing her arms. - How could I forget the famous writer Y/n?- He raised an eyebrow and she rolled her eyes with his last sentence.

- It really was an...- She looked at her feet trying to find a word. - Interesting night… - she finally said and he chuckled, making her look up.

- Very interesting indeed... - he said putting his hands in his front pockets, pulling himself away from the counter and heading towards her. Y/n wanted to say goodbye and leave, run away as fast as possible. But she couldn't, every move he did was too tempting, so she just stood there watching him get closer and closer to her. He stopped in front of her and looked into her eyes, smiling slightly.

- What are you doing here? Do you work as a waiter at parties too? - Y/n asked curiously.

- My boss sometimes receives proposals for us to work at these rich parties... - he said with a shrug.

- Oh... Nice... - she said crossing her arms. - Well...Now I really have to go... - she said trying to get away from it one last time.

- Why did you really come here love? -Tom asked tilting his head a little to the side and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

- I told you, I was looking for the bathroom. -Y/n looked at his face trying to be firm, but saw that he still wore that smirk. Why did he have to be so confident like that?

- Oh sure... Just like you also looked for some excuse that day for me to leave, but failed miserably?- he asked making a thoughtful face and she still hadn't decided if she wanted to slap him or kiss him.

- Why did you leave without saying goodbye tho? - She asked ignoring what he had said.

- So that's why you came after me? Are you hurt that I didn't leave you a goodbye kiss? - he said pouting.

- Of course not, I just... I don't know, it would be nice to say that you were leaving and that you wouldn't stay for breakfast... - Y/n said looking to the side, avoiding those brown eyes that intimidated her.

- Darling, I'm not that type guy, sorry...

- What type of guy? - she still avoided looking at him.

- The type who stay for breakfeast. -he said taking a hand from her pocket and taking her chin gently, making her look at him. - But if you want some fun I'm at your disposal. -he said and she bit her lower lip lightly making him deviate his eyes towards her lips. - Do you want darling?- he asked quietly and Y/n seemed to be transfixed by her touch. She was surrendered, she couldn't deny it. Maybe even hypnotized.

- I...- she said with a little shaky voice. - I don't know...

- Yes or no?- he asked looking from her lips to her eyes and she felt her breath getting heavy.

- Yes...- she just spoke as a whisper and he smiled satisfied.

- How about you meet me in 15 minutes in the bathroom of the pool house? - He said and she just shook her head slowly. Tom released her chin and backed away slowly, not taking his eyes off her, and then walked away leaving her alone with her heart racing.

Y/n took a deep breath and tried to place herself in what had just happened. Did she really want this? Her mind could try to hear the voice of reason, but it was drowned out by her body's reaction. She wanted to feel him again.

She walked away quickly, passing several people who were talking loudly or who were already drunk. She looked around and saw the door that led to the back side and sneak there, getting out and feeling the slightly chilly night air, closing the sliding door behind her.

She saw the pool that had some people around it and a little further to the right a door that opened into another closed space. Probably the pool house. She walked over there, trying to hide it so no one would see her, and went inside. She closed the front door slowly and headed towards the bathroom.

The place was dark, with only the lights outside. So she was holding her hand into to some stuff until he found the door. She went in and turned on the light. The bathroom was spacious, with a large sink and a huge mirror in front of it. She closed herself off and looked at herself in the reflection.

That was crazy. She had never done that at parties. Not even when she was drunk. And now she was there, looking forward to what might happen. In fact she knew what was going to happen, just as she knew when she invited him up to her apartment that night. But even so, she felt butterflies in her stomach in anticipation.

After almost 10 minutes of waiting she heard the bathroom door open and she turned in the direction, feeling extremely anxious. Tom came in looking over his shoulder and closed the door soon after, looking at her with an opening grin. He locked the door slowly with one hand and came towards her in a hurry.

The next thing she felt was his lips pressing against hers urgently. He kissed her like it was the last thing he would do. Running her tongue over her lips asking permission and Y/n opened it slowly letting him explore her mouth with his burning tongue.

She ran her hand around the back of his neck pulling his hair and he responded by holding her waist tightly. Tom walked forward and she leaned her back against the sink counter. Making him lift her with agility, sitting her down on the cold surface and getting between her legs. She grunted in surprise against his mouth and he broke the kiss for air. Kissing from her neck to her collarbone and she closed her eyes feeling his touch.

- Tom... - she said in a low voice. - You won't get in trouble if you disappear like that? -he now kissed her neckline and squeezed her thigh with desire.

- Not if we're fast darling. -He spoke a bit husky, moving his kisses to her earlobe, biting lightly and she moaned low. - And despite loving your sounds, you will have to be silent. - He looked at her smiling maliciously. - Promise? -He spoke touching her nose with his lightly, looking at her closely, and she nodded making him attack her lips next.

Still kissing her he pulled the hem of her dress up a little and she bit his lip making him smile against the kiss. Her fingers reached her inner thigh and then moved up to her panties. Tom put the fabric aside with one of her fingers and passed one slowly at her entrance feeling her wetness.

- Always ready for me aren't you darling? -He said pulling his mouth away from hers, staying just a few centimeters away from her. She moaned softly again and he smiled as he pulled her fingers away and replaced them around her thighs pulling her closer to the edge of the sink.  He started to finger her really slowly and she bite her lips, trying to control her moaning. Tom keep his pace just watching her face squirm with pleasure. After seconds he removed his delicious fingers making her almost protest out loud, makind him smile even more. If wasn't for the rush he would definitively make his time with you.

Y/n then put his hands on the collar of his shirt and opened the first buttons. Kissing his neck with desire, making him squeeze her thighs in response. Biting her lips he unfastened his belt and then the buttons of his pants pulled them down along with his boxers, revealing his cock. He pulled her in for one more kiss before taking the condom package from his pocket and opening it, meanwhile Y/n was kissing uncovered place she could reach, from his face to his chest, opening more buttons of his shirt.

Tom adjusted the condom on his cock before taking a few thrusts. He moved even closer to her, if that was even possible, and gave her a peck.

- Ready? He spoke softly against her lips and she nodded almost in despair, wanting to feel him inside her more than anything.

He smiled once more and slid his cock easily as she was completely wet. Tom growled low against her ear and Y/n bit her lip so no sound could come out. He started to move, after she was more adjusted to his size, at first slowly and starting to increase his pace with each second.

-Fuck... - he cursed softly against her ear and she pulled the hair from his neck with one hand, while the other squeezed his shoulder. The more he increased the pace she felt as if she were coming off the ground. - So tight darling... - he said between small grunts. - Feels so good...

- Tom... - Y/n spoke and he increased the pace even more making her moan with the sudden sensation of pleasure and he muffled her sounds by sticking his lips on hers.

-Shh… - he said after moving his lips from hers and Y/n tried her best to keep the sounds to herself, but he filled her perfectly and made her feel so good that she couldn't help it. Tom smirked and put his hand over her mouth, covering her moans. - Can't contain yourself? -he said and kissed her neck giving light bites and hickeys. -You're so easy for me, love... Look at you...- he spoke in a low voice, while still holding his hand firm in her mouth and kissing below her ear. - So easy...- he said going faster, as if it were possible, and bit his lower lip trying to contain his own moans this time, touching his nose to her cheek.

- Please…- she managed to speak muffled against his hand, feeling her orgasm quickly building.

- I know sweetheart... - he said making her feel his heavy breath into her cheek. -I got you ...-he finally said and that was enough for her orgasm to release with force, making him also come right after her with one last muffled grunt against her neck. He continued to move slowly for a few more seconds, before coming to a complete stop. The two of them with their breaths out of control. Reaching their high.

After a few minutes Tom took his hand from her mouth and soon after took his member out of her slowly. The two were silent the entire time. Y/n felt empty as  soonTom walked away to clean up, still half dazed from all the pleasure she just felt. He cleaned himself up and discarded the condom, zipping his pants and turned around, buttoning his shirt right away. Y/n didn't take her eyes off every move he made and he smiled approaching her.

- Want some help darling? - he asked standing in front of her and she held in his arms before he helped her getting down from the sink. She felt a little dizzy and if it wasn't for him holding her she thought she would fall. - You're right? - he asked still holding her on her waist.

- Yes...Thank you... - she managed to say.

- Well, I have to go, before they notice that I'm gone... - he said, releasing her.

- Of course... - Y/n said. - Tom… - she didn't know what to say. It might be the second time they'd done this, but it still felt like it was the first and she felt somewhat embarrassed. Maybe because she wasn't used to casual sex.

- See you soon? - He said giving a quick kiss on her cheek, fixing his hair in the best way he could and winking as he walked away, going to the door and unlocking it. He got out and closed it behind him while she back staring into the mirror.

She took a deep breath and was trying to figure out what to do next. After cleaning her up she finally got out of there. She crawled to the door and managed to get through the party without the weird looks she thought everyone would send to her when they bumped into her. For some reason she thought everyone would know, but obviously not. She felt weird doing that at an party, it really wasn't like her. But why did she feel so good?

She looked around before heading out of the house, but she didn't find Tom in her vision and she didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She wanted to look at him one last time from afar, but at the same time she didn't. Maybe that was the last time they were going to do that. She didn't think she'd find him like this anywhere else, and she didn't intend to go to the bar he worked at just to get another night with him. Besides, that's what she was, just one night, just a "quickie" in the bathroom. And everything was fine. He was that for her too, so what did it matter?

For a moment she felt his head fill with ideas. Y/n had a perfect plot for her story now. She had to go home and get back to writing right away. Calling the driver from a distance, she practically ran towards the car.

[puckngrind]

Leave Her Wild: chapter 3 - N. MacKinnon

Summary: MacKenzie heads to Washington and cashes in her bet with Nathan.

Warnings: swearing, fluff and stuff

Word count: 2,565 (swear they will get longer)

Series masterlist / Puck ‘n Grind’s masterlist

Washington.

The two texted back and forth over the week. Mostly randomness with a splash of real life. A friendship was blooming with the text conversation but what else could come of it? Neither one seemed to want to touch the subject. Kenzie wasn't even sure what to make of the attention from Nate. She threw herself into work as she normally would.

MacKenzie spent a few days in Colorado Springs for work but took advantage of her time off by hiking the Garden of the Gods. She was was halfway through Palmers trail when she feels her phone and decides to stop for water and take in the view plus check her phone thinking it was work. She laughs to herself realizing it was in fact not work.

Nate: how’s Colorado Springs?

She snaps a picture of her view and sends it.

Kenzie: gorgeous as always

Nate: holy shit are you hiking alone?

Kenzie snaps a selfie where you can see she’s alone and sends it.

Kenzie: don’t worry not anything too dangerous today. Lol

Nate: ok… not worried. Anyways, thought maybe dinner could be in DC since we will both be there next week.

Kenzie thinks about it and starts walking again. She realizes dinner out of town may in fact make things less awkward.

Kenzie: depends on my schedule but that should work

Nate: good. Enjoy the rest of your hike.

MacKenzie did just that. One thing most people knew about her was she loved adventures and trying new things. She rarely goes to the same vacation spot twice. Always wanting to try new restaurants and really only frequents Gus’s place in Denver. She liked to be free which drove her mother insanely crazy but MacKenzie didn’t seem to care. Her dad was her biggest supporter. Constantly sending her wanderlust Instagram posts after she taught him how. At least her mom had home in Kenzie’s brother, Cameron. Cam was doing everything he was expected to do including recently proposing to his high school sweetheart which Kenzie thought was dumb as seniors in college. His life was his life that was for sure, well and maybe their mother's life too. She couldn't control Kenzie which meant Cam got all of her energy.

The flight to D.C. was a breeze but busy would be an understatement as MacKenzie met her client at the end of the week. The demands were insane in the time frame. She spent almost all weekend in her hotel room working and talking with her team back in Colorado.

Nate: would you want to come to the game? I have tickets.

Kenzie: I would love to but I don’t even know if I can do dinner I’m so swamped

Nate: you need to eat right?

Kenzie: I mean, yeah. I’ll order in

Nate: how about you come to my hotel, we have an amazing restaurant here. You can work and eat

MacKenzie thought it over as she looked out her window. Walking the block and a half to Nathan’s hotel tomorrow night seemed doable. He had a point that she needed to eat and could work while they ate. It would complete their wager from the card game in the same instance. Wondered if Gabe or one of the other players would be around to ensure the dinner happened. MacKenzie thought she wouldn’t have the awkwardness of it feeling like a date this way. Plus, she wanted to try the restaurant out since last time she was in town and another client mentioned it. Mosi was all for the dinner when she called ensuring Kenzie her condo's mail was indeed checked. She thought this was the perfect arrangement and MacKenzie couldn’t find a reason to say no. Thinking Nate would already be at the arena for the game she sent a text.

Kenzie: Yes, to dinner at your hotel if you are still up to it after the game

She starts typing away again and laughs when the ping is almost immediate.

Nate: Perfect. I'll text you when we are back on the bus.

MacKenzie decided to turn the game on while she worked. She normally would have something on as background noise while she worked. She knows she can get lost in work and wanted to make sure she knew to pack up her laptop and such waiting for Nathan's call. She hears his name and looks up to see him score with less than a minute left. The Avalanche was already been leading but that goal ensured their win. She decided to change then couldn’t decide if she should pack up her work yet. “How sure how much time would he take between the game and the bus?” Kenzie asked her reflection. She texted him nice game to see if he would respond. He did a few moments later so she packed up slowly. Kenzie walks down to the street turning to head over to his hotel, humming to herself trying to not over think this very simple dinner. She slows down as she sees the charter bus in front of the hotel. Fuck.

"MAAAAC! Good to see you!" Gabe's voice comes booming out of the bus with some others chiming in as the stepped off the bus. MacKenzie awkwardly smiles at the team and then catches Nathan out the side of her eye. He’s staring at her as he walks down the step.

"Did you walk?" Nathan looks down at MacKenzie puzzled.

"Well, hello. Nice game. And yes. Just two blocks." MacKenzie pulls at her loose curl and then slides her finger down her messenger bag.

"Ready for dinner? I see you brought your work." Nathan taps her bag with his knuckle. MacKenzie nods and follows Nathan into the hotel. She awkwardly stops and he realizes it. “Whatcha doin’ there?” Nate walked back so he was standing in front of Kenzie.

“Isn’t the restaurant that way?” She points in the direction of the sign she stopped next to.

“Yes but they deliver to the room and I’d rather change into sweats and let you work in comfort.” He pulls at his tie. “Less eyes too. Come on.” Nathan placed his hand briefly on MacKenzie’s lower back to lead her to the elevator.

“I normally take the stairs.” MacKenzie looks around Nate for the steps.

“My room is on floor 12 and I just had over 20 minutes of ice time. Can we please take the elevator?” Nathan looked into MacKenzie’s questioning eyes.

“Fine. You have a point.” She smiles but gets lost calculating if that time is high or low for him.

They make their way to Nathan’s room. MacKenzie is surprised how nice it is. She’s not sure what she expected but it wasn’t this. Nathan’s suits neatly hanging up. Sweats sitting in his open luggage next to the closet. She realizes he hasn’t moved from behind her.

“Everything okay?” He moves to grab a pair of shorts and shirt.

“Yeah. Just not what I was expecting. You literally live out of suitcase don’t ya?” She watches him take off his suit coat and gulps at how his shirt is sticking to him.

“Some trips it feels like that. This one we won’t be home until the 26th… then a home stand with a few games on the road… and I’m boring you. Set up wherever you want and I’m gonna go change then will be right back.” He heads to the bathroom shut the door softly.

MacKenzie stares at the uncomfortable looking desk chair in a moment of indecision wanting to be set up so she’s working when Nate returns, she decides the bed was a better option for her to sit. Getting out her laptop Kenzie starts typing as soon as she hears Nate opening the door. He smirks when he sees Kenzie on the bed and moves to the desk to find the menu. She cannot help watching him. His muscles easily seen in the shirt and shorts he picked. He hikes up his pant leg exposing his thigh. Kenzie coughs focusing back on her work again.

"Here it is." Nathan turns around and walks towards MacKenzie handing her the menu. She stares at the menu then her finger lands on a cheeseburger and fries. Nathan moves to the other side of the bed, sitting to call in the order. He hangs up and starts to move.

"You can stay here. That chair is horrible looking." MacKenzie looks over at Nathan and he stops moving then looks down at his feet before swinging them up and adjusting to sit on the bed.

"Thanks." He looks over at her screen. "So what exactly do you do?"

"Simple description... I am a social media consultant." MacKenzie giggles. "Speaking of... your social media..." "Is non-existent." Nathan finishes her statement.

"Yeah, only two posts. That’s shocking for someone your age. Nate, do you know how you could amplify your earnings post career?" MacKenzie moves her computer and shift so look at him. He rubs the back of his neck and rotates on his hip to look at her better.

"Yeah. No, yeah. I get it. Just not my thing but you looked at my socials?" He bites his lip.

"I did after we ran into you at the bar post-game. Would've felt funny giving you my number if you had a girlfriend." MacKenzie admits.

"No girlfriend. So did you say you watched the game?" Nate changes the subject which Kenzie made a mental note of.

"Background noise while working. You can turn the tv on now or just talk to me. You scored." Kenzie looks over at Nathan.

"Empty netter but yeah. Nice win." Nathan says softly. The knock on the door stops their conversation. "Oh, dinner!" Nathan pops up and answers the door.

Dinner was delicious. The two shared backgrounds such as where they were from, college for MacKenzie, boarding school and early days of hockey for Nathan. They were laughing at each other's stories which lead to both laying on their stomachs watching a video for MacKenzie's work on her laptop.

"Kenz... Kenzie. Wake up!" Nathan whispers and MacKenzie's groggy self pops up and lands on Nathan's naked torso.

"Holy fuck!" She yells out. Nathan's hands steady her.

"Hey." Nathan backs up and bends to look her in face. Panic written all over her face. "You okay? We fell asleep talking." He looks at her.

"Why didn't you wake me? What time is it? Fuck. Sorry. I'm on a schedule." MacKenzie pulls away and looks for her bag realizing Nathan plugged her computer in at some point.

"It's 6:30. We just slept. I sleep shirtless and, uh, must've taken it off in my sleep. Sorry, should've put in on before I woke you. Hold on." Nathan moves to the other side of the bed and throws his shirt back on. "Let me call you an uber." He grabs his phone.

"I can walk. I don't have a meeting until noon so I'm fine. Thank you." MacKenzie points to the bathroom and Nathan nods.

She stands in front of the mirror for way too long just looking at herself. Pinches her cheeks and starts ranking her fingers through their loose blonde curls making them manageable enough to put up in a high ponytail. She grabs Nathan’s toothpaste and brushes her teeth with her finger.

“Well, Mac. This will have to do.” She bobs on the balls of her feet to psych herself up. Returning to the room she notices that Nathan had changed and slipped on some shoes. “Whatcha doin’ Nate?”

“I’ll walk with you. I wanted to grab coffee from down the street before we leave for the airport.” He grabs his wallet.

“You don’t have to.” Kenzie whispers as she heads to her bag.

“I don’t, but I wanna.” Nate smiles at her. She notices those soft eyes again. Almost gray but then again blue.

They head out of room to the steps. MacKenzie took a deep breath not realizing she was holding it until they got to the door.

“Why good morning you two!” Gabe’s voice comes from around the corner with a bag and coffee in hand.

“Mornin’” Nate answers and pushes the cross walk button.

“Glad to see you Kenzie.” Gabe nods and starts whistling while heading back to the hotel.

“Don’t mind him.” Nate breaks the silence after crossing the street.

“I’m assuming he’s thinking you got lucky last night.” MacKenzie tries to control her racing heart.

“I’ll talk to him.” Nathan assures her. She stops and looks up at him.

“Did you want to?” She puts her hand on her head not sure she really said it out loud.

“What?” Nathan stops and looks at her confused.

“Did you want to sleep with me?” She looks to see if anyone could hear her.

“No. Well… damnit. Hi. Let me start over.” Nathan looks deep in her eyes and cups her face.

“Go ahead.” She’s not sure if the words actually could be heard or not.

“I like you. You are easy to talk to. In the short time I’ve known you I’m constantly wanting to know more. I’m just bad at dating.”

“Why do you say that?” She moves closer to him without thinking.

“I’m not romantic. Plus my job isn’t the easiest for most of the year to maintain a healthy relationship. Plus, there is those who just want me for what I could give them.” He drops his hand to her hip. She sees his chest rise and fall.

“Who says you aren’t romantic?” MacKenzie questions.

“Every girl I’ve dated.” Nathan grumbles. This makes Kenzie laugh. “Well, they have.”

“I like you too, Nate. You intrigue me.” She feels the heat in her cheeks.

“So to answer your original question, yes. I would very much like to be physical with you but I also want to date you. Like not to fuck it up by…” She stops him by pushing herself to her tip toes to softly kiss his cheek.

“Well, saying all that is a start in how not to fuck it up.” She smiles at him. “Let’s get me back to my hotel then we can visit this whole dating thing when you return to Denver.” She starts walking and he quickly grabs her hand to walk with her.

“Here we are.” He stops at the doors of her hotel. “So, I’ll see you in two weeks, Kenzie.” Nathan drags out the two while contorting his face.

“It’s not that long plus you will be busy and I have this plus another project to finish before then.” She rubs the back of his hand with her thumb realizing how large his hand was in comparison which could crush her hand if he wanted. “Thanks for dinner Nate.”

“Can I?” He starts and gulps. MacKenzie watches his Adam’s apple bob. “Can I kiss you?” He asks with a quiver in his voice. She nods her head yes. Nate brings his hands up to her jaw holding her face up while he leans in pressing his lips to hers. Kenzie kisses him back and cannot remember a first kiss quiet like that. He releases while sucking in a deep breath.

“I…” Kenzie touches her lips.

“Well, see you soon Kenzie.” He kisses her forehead then turns quickly to head back down the street leaving Kenzie wanting more.

[downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles]

We Met Within This Screen (chapt. 2)

[Donnie x fem reader]

Sfw, part 1 here

Intellectually, Donnie was the best matchup for their leader as today was sparring day. He'd gone against his oldest brother many times, sometimes even coming out the victor himself, but today was just not his day.

He held his staff with that iron grip of his and waited for Leo to come at him. Donnie was more on the defensive than any of his brothers; he had to be. Out of all he was weakest physically but superior in calculations, but he was missing range in this matchup. Leo had a hard time disarming him as his katana could sometimes get lodged in the solid wood staff, giving Donnie leverage to perform the finisher in the short time it took him to dislodge his sword. He thought this time would be how that would happen.

"You're slow today, Donnie," Leo said as he lunged at his brother with a swing of his katana, forcing Donnie to step back. He was too focused on blocking Leo's rapid succession of attacks to respond.

Leo reeled back to swing his blade again but Donnie parried and struck his arm with his staff, shoving it aside. For a split second, Leo actually thought he was fixing to go down by this move if Donnie could hit him again quick enough. But his brother hesitated in thought, and without any reluctance himself, he used his other katana to put him in a compromising position. The match was over and Donnie was forced to stand down.

"Why did you hesitate?" Leo questioned him, lowering his blade. Raph watched from the sidelines with Mikey as they prepared to go up next. Since Leo was the winner, it was Raph's turn next to spar in his younger brother's place.

Donnie huffed and dropped his stance, putting his staff away. "It's just an off day," he replied. Splinter wasn't there to dictate today's training session and tournament, so Donnie was already on his way out to go to his lab by the time Raph stepped up to spar. But Leo sheathed his sword and put a hand on Donnie's shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

"You've been pretty eager to run back to your lab lately," Leo said matter-of-factly. He was wondering what was going on, why Donnie seemed weirdly distant the last couple of weeks. He had gone through a very withdrawn phase in earlier times upon entering his teenage years, but now, he was legitimately making everyone guess. He didn't snap at his brothers, and he wasn't any more impatient than usual. But something was different. He'd been spending a lot more time holed up in his lab, which everyone began to notice. Leo wanted to know what was wrong.

Donnie shifted and shrugged, "Like I said, I've been busy with some projects. Also, it's not like I have much to do out here beside training and patrol."

Leo opened his mouth to speak, but Mikey jumped on between them. "You missed game night last week! You never miss it," he butted in. Both Donnie and Leo gave him a look as if to say really? and he added in, "Well, uh...not usually."

Gently moving Mikey aside, Leo wanted to continue, but he saw Donnie staring at him expecting a follow-up when he didn't really have one. Whatever this was, Leo knew that coming at Donnie with questions was not the way to go about it. So he stepped back and gave his brother some space.

"We all have off days," Leo said finally after an awkward moment of silence. "Just work on your speed, Don."

"Got it."

With that, Donnie turned to leave, and Raph entered the ring to go against Leo in the last match of the night.

Once Donnie was gone, Leo got ready to spar with Raph. As they got into position, he contemplated bringing this recent development up with the other two, but decided against it in the end. He didn't want to incriminate Donnie, especially with Raph's assertive approach to handling things. Donnie could be somewhat flighty at times when it came to resolving matters of emotion, at times a little too introspective, but Leo couldn't fault him—he had his own struggles with that very thing, too.

Done, finally, Donnie thought as he skirted into his lab and started up the game. He was late to the party quite literally; training lasted longer than he'd thought, and he was disappointed to see that his newest friend was online, but not responding to his invite. Did everyone get together and play without him? After a few minutes, he almost decided on giving up. The instance made him contemplate whether he even wanted to continue this. Perhaps he'd been too eager.

He sighed. And then the menu pinged, and he was there reading the message in an instant.

Hey, sorry I partied up without you, I just didn't know if you were gonna be on or not :/

Without even thinking, he licked his lips typed back, repeatedly deleting and retyping his message to make sure it was casual but not too casual, apologetic but not desperate—

It's okay, don't worry about it

Likewise sorry it took me so long to get here.

That would do. He'd be lying to say he wasn't feeling that flutter in his stomach; the excitement of something new got to him in a way that only a discovery in his research did, or how he felt when he mastered a new technique in his training.

Let's get started then :)

They started the game, and this time he kept the mic on, as she did. They talked back and forth as they fought creatures and enemies and looted things, eventually coming to learn that she herself was in New York City. He was surprised; suddenly, the world felt a lot smaller, and he couldn't concentrate on just playing after that. The time they spent became more of an opportunity to converse than to play a mundane game for hours on end.

At some point, she switched the topic to his whereabouts. Donnie's breath hitched.

"I'm...not anywhere near. So it doesn't really matter," he told her, cringing. If the guys found out—if Splinter found out—he would be in such trouble.

"Oh," she paused for a moment, trying to find something to say. "That's alright, I don't want you to feel like you have to tell me, you know?"

He'd muted his mic to release a deep breath. He got lost in thought thinking about how in that moment, he wanted to be human. If he weren't a giant mutant turtle, he could actually form a connection with someone. It was a very "Mikey" thing to think, he reckoned, but at times he wanted friends just like his brother did.

"Yeah, sorry, I just…"

"It's really no problem, dude."

He felt as though he could hear the smile in her voice. What did she look like, he wondered. He wanted to see her, but he couldn't ask for that when he could never do the same. If he could get her name, he'd be in the clear to do some preliminary lookups on this person, but so far, she'd been dodgy about sharing info about herself as well. He couldn't blame her. They were two strangers online, one with a huge secret and the other completely in the dark about who he truly was. For all she knew, he could have been a creep, looking to stalk her online and perhaps do even worse. The thought made him feel almost nauseous, how she could be considering that about him as a possibility as they spoke. But she seemed comfortable enough. Unlike him, who was still slightly skeptical of the entire thing, because after spending his whole life in practical isolation, he was at a loss as to what to say or do after a certain point. The conversation died off and both of them thought simultaneously about how weird the sudden silence between them felt.

She hummed, as if searching for something to bring up. When she spoke, he was taken aback—"Hey, I'm gonna be honest, I really like talking to you but this game is getting boring. Do you wanna chat somewhere else?"

"Uh…" he trailed off, mind shooting blanks. Oh, was it just a horrible idea. He couldn't keep the jig up forever; the truth was bound to get revealed somewhere down the line. He was fixing to reject the proposition, tell her that he didn't want to take it that far. She could be anyone. The likelihood of it being a clever ruse on account of the Foot Clan was slim, but the paranoia still worked ambiently in the background noise of his mind. But his other doubt stopped him—when would he ever have a chance at this again? He wanted to have the strength to say no and leave it at that. The loneliness that crept up on him from time to time had something else to say.

"Yeah," he answered after a terribly long pause of mumbling, fighting with himself all the way as she told him where to add her. He could have kicked himself had it not been for the fact that he knew how to encrypt data, and that as long as he didn't leak a word about his inner circle or life, it would be okay. It didn't feel okay, though.

"Nice! I'll text you, see you later, Bo. I had a lot of fun tonight," she chirped.

Before he could respond, she was gone from the party, and the mic went silent. It happened so fast. He was barely caught up with the fact that he was now receiving messages and prompts to talk, but he couldn't bring himself to answer right away. He had to refocus his logic; how could this be used by the enemy as a way to get to them? Could they have somehow anticipated he'd download this game and find this random on there? The more the thought about it, the more glaringly obvious it was that it was not the case. It was just too improbable.

"The probability of the Foot being able to simulate such a specific scenario in order to get intel on us is so slim, it is practically non-existent," he told himself as he finally pulled up the messages. He read through them. "Approximately a zero-point-zero-zero-zero..."

My name is (Y/N), by the way :)

Well, that was easier than expected. He figured that somehow, the name suited you—a fitting name for such a personality. But it also gave him a glimmer of hope. It made him want to ask why you appeared to trust him, as he could be anyone on the Earth over the screen, not his benevolent self. Which she had no way of proving, technically. But he soon came to realize the screen painted him in a whole new light that it casted on him. It hit then that he could be anyone. He didn't have to be himself; not necessarily. She'd never have to know, as he could wear a human mask and she'd be none the wiser. Problem was, the lying made him feel guilty, and slowly would develop to be the thorn in his side.

Donnie thoughtfully stared at the screen. Now that he was here, some of his anxiety began to fade. He found himself actually able to talk, someone to listen to his tangents and even build upon them. They spent hours texting back and forth about anything and everything until it was almost time for him to put the phone down to leave for patrol. He felt giddy, like a kid, all over again.

________________________________________

Had you ever been able to talk to someone this easily?

You asked yourself that question as you exchanged with the faceless and nameless stranger over your screen, chatting from afternoon to night. Time flew by in an instant, with him, and you loved every minute. He was someone intellectual, but funny and so easy to talk to that it was as though the conversation carried itself. After some time he came out about his age after you revealed yours. Oftentimes, he'd just present to you a random question when the subject tapered off and run with it, like now:

What do you think of reptiles?

Puzzled, you took a second to reply. Odd question.

Why do you ask? Do you have one?

I was just curious

What do you think of them?

The chat indicator flip-flopped between "typing" and "idle" a few times before a message finally popped up, and you smiled. You'd learned over this short time that he was a dork in a cute way.

Well...I think they're pretty cool.

They've got natural armor and you would be surprised to know just how fast a turtle can be

You laughed a little to yourself. It was such a random thing to bring up, yet you were endeared. Deciding you'd go along with it, you asked him what else he knew about turtles.

Well...

__________________________________________________

Donnie was wondering what he was talking about just as much as she probably was. Stupid, he thought, facepalming. His first time really speaking with a human as an equal and he starts talking about turtles. Of course he knew a lot about them, he was one himself—but for some reason he found himself wanting to dispel myths and misunderstandings about turtles as if they reflected on him, when as far as she knew, he was just a human guy like herself.

He groaned lightly and typed, thinking up a fact that wasn't too conspicuous.

Red eared sliders are semi-aquatic.

As he typed the next part, he caught himself writing "we" instead of "they", to his dismay. He quickly fixed the error and continued, feeling weirdly exposed as it was almost as though in sharing this information, he was putting himself under a microscope for her to inspect.

They can hold their breath for up to thirty minutes, usually

Holding his breath was something he'd tested numerous times before. He and his brothers had actually made a game out of it on a few occasions, with Leo leading at thirty-three minutes, Donnie in second at thirty-one. Raph broke at twenty-nine minutes and Mikey followed behind in last at just twenty-seven. The ability could be trained, nonetheless.

That's interesting, I wonder what it's like to be able to go underwater so long?

It's kind of cool, you should try sometime

For THIRTY MINUTES?

Shit. He promptly replied:

No—not like I can hold my breath that long, I just mean you should try to see sometime I guess

I tested it just for the fun of it.

Looking up how long humans could hold their breath on average (between thirty seconds and two minutes), he bumped the number up a little bit and added:

Personally, I'm at two minutes and forty-five seconds

He was embarrassed, partially covering his face as he waited for a response. Such a foolish slip-up; he couldn't afford to say anything cryptic. But he still was fairly sure that he had recovered that alright. He couldn't help but think about how awkward or weird he seemed to her. Who talked about this?

I don't think I could hold my breath for more than a minute, kudos to you haha

Anyway, sorry to switch gears all of a sudden but if you don't mind me asking, what's up with your family? You have any siblings?

He told her no. He would not bring his brothers into this, lest it be the slim chance of a ploy, after all. He said his family situation was unconventional and left it at that.

With that, he said to her goodnight and put his phone away, getting up to go get geared for patrol. It was only then he noticed the figure leaning against the doorway.

Chapter 3

[ddaehyeon]

。✧ hyacinth; park serim + reader

— pairing: fashion designer!park serim + photographer!reader

— genre: angst, slight fluff, exes au, post-breakup, slightly suggestive (one scene only!)

— word count: 7.1k

— warning: arguments, heartbreak, mentions of anxiety and emptiness

— summary: years had passed since you broke up with serim; life had been continuously patching up ever since. his name had marked several clothing lines, while your studio was well-known in the small city you lived in. who would’ve known that a sight of him on a bus stop would be enough to bring back wounds you thought had long ago healed?

— navi: playlist | video teaser | cravity masterlist

— a/n: my wips suffered from a major slump and this is quite an overdue fic (i also have another overdue fic help) but i hope someone would still at least read this though >< the first ver of this didn't satisfy me and though this ver didn't satisfy me that much, i feel like after rewriting almost half of the fic, this one's better. i'll do my best to pull something better soon!

autumn must be the most magical part of the year. the leaves experiencing a color alteration, scarlets and golds carpeting the ground— a yearly harvest of the earth where everything was gradually being taken away. long gone was the heat of the summer; the chilly evening breeze sure was much friendlier than of winter. the season served as a comforting quilt. it was such a great time for warm drinks that could lift up the mood even for the wariest.

you let go of a breath as you stared at the window, the sun was setting. the color fleshed out in the sky golden, jiving well with the surrounding that was already of the same palette. with an indoor shoot for a seasonal issue of a magazine, it sure was a tiring day. the sound of camera clicks still ringing in your head, along with the hushed talks and chitchats coming from the staff members and the models.

at first, you were hesitant to accept the project. afraid that you’d bump by one of the renowned fashion designers in your region, park serim. but then, you couldn’t just chicken out when a hefty sum was to be paid. the relief you had when you saw that his name wasn’t on the list of designers was almost the same kind of relief you'd have after preventing big trouble from occurring.

“i finished placing back the props in the room.” hyeongjun’s voice was still as bright as it was this morning as if not touched by any fatigue. he was one of the photographers you hired in your studio, offering only fine shots. “i’ll be going home early, just send me a message about what time tomorrow’s shoot will be!”

“thank you, junie.” a smile was on your brim as you nodded on his words, watching him pack his camera and leave afterward.

silence melted in the room as soon as hyeongjun stepped out. alone in your photography studio, you sat on a stool used earlier by one of the models. the room was dimly lit with only one of the umbrella lights open. it was only by then that you realized your thighs were already stiff from the nonstop work earlier. you wanted to go home and just be in the comforts of your bed.

pulling out your phone, you dialed your brother’s number, frowning when it took him quite a while to pick up. was he busy or did he just forget that he was supposed to pick you up tonight?

jungmo would always fetch you by your studio after his working hours concluded. with the two of you living together in the same house, your brother just found it ideal— bringing you to your work every morning and giving you a drive home every evening. it might seem like he was babying you, but it was a gesture you grew fond of.

“y/n?” jungmo gasped on the other line. it seemed like he was outside, music playing in the background which mingled well with the peals of laughter. “shit, i forgot to tell you.”

you raised a brow, questioning his words. “what’s the matter?”

“can’t fetch you today.” you can already envision the pout he had on his lips. “i’m at a party with allen and woobin, catching up with my colleagues. i’ll make it up to you tomorrow, i promise!”

“alright. i’ll just ride the bus then.” it was your turn to purse your lips. you can’t bring yourself to complain about it though. “have fun! just stay in woobin’s apartment tonight, don’t drive!”

“i will, i will,” jungmo replied, a call of his name following. his friends might’ve been looking for him already. “text me alright? get home safely, y/nie.”

at the end of the phone call came another sigh from you. a tightlipped smile braced your lips as you stood to turn off the remaining lights. you retrieved your camera and placed it back in one of the drawers. making sure everything was back to its place, secured; you gave the place one final look. something you’d do every single day before going home. a reminder of the thing you loved the most. a reminder of what could have been.

the sidewalk wasn’t as empty as you imagined it to be, maybe you weren’t used to walking to the bus stop anymore. strangers of different day occurrences exchanged various looks that shared one same element, tiredness.

when the wind blew, fallen leaves danced along with it. the slight coldness making you tuck your hands inside the pocket of the cardigan you were wearing. you loved the cool breeze, but not when you knew you had to stay out on an open shed with it as your companion. cold weather could be your friend, a company for a better evening sleep. but rather a harsh fellow when you had to be alone, when loneliness can easily be injected to your senses.

tracing the path, a memory went to play in your head. way back in college, this was the same sidewalk you’d walk in with your ex-lover. a camera on your hand while he had a roll of satin in his arms. it was such a usual view for the two of you as you talked about how the day went, ranting about the monotonous lectures, gushing over how you missed each other’s company and how you wished that the two of you could get back to your shared apartment as soon just so you can snuggle on the couch.

you glanced at the sky, the cloud hiding the few scattered twinkling stars. a faint smile spread upon your lips, only to disappear when your gaze went back to the bus stop. the male that passed by in a form of fleeting memory earlier was standing right in front of you as if fleshed out from your mind. a lavender-colored paper bag was hanging on his arm, the logo of his product line delicately stamped on the middle. his phone was resting on his other hand, if he was scrolling through sns or texting someone, you weren’t sure.

the magical feeling he used to offer long gone, your stomach twisting into several knots. a cold sensation went down in your spine as a familiar tug came to pull your heartstring. he’s back? what is he doing here? he lives here again?

your thoughts were loud in your head, but none of it was pulled out loud. each word ending up as a lump in your throat. the air was thickening, your heart beating fast, not out of excitement, but out of the clashing thoughts that left you so nervous and confused. it had been years, how come a single sight of him made you feel like all your resolutions are gone? how did a single sight of him become enough to shatter the glass that protected you from the ache that night had caused you?

it was cold. but no, it was no longer because of the autumn breeze.

“serim?” the name was uttered in the same way you would before everything came crashing, yet it held a much weaker tone. you can’t even remember the last time your voice came to wrap around the syllables of his name.

the male turned his head to look at you, a brow raised as he stared at you. no obvious emotion, his eyes held no recognition.

and his reply? it sent a shiver down your spine, your stomach flipping in a horrendous manner.

“who are you?”

for a moment, the air caused such a nauseous feeling— thin and hard to inhale. it was only three words, yet it was powerful enough to serve as a punch in the gut.

how can he forget?

how can he forget how the two of you first met?

not that it was a very momentous event, just a regular struggle faced by two college students that needed someone else to accomplish a project for a major subject. there were no butterflies involved, nor did sparks fly the moment you met. regardless, up until now, that day burned fresh in your mind.

“i know someone from that department,” woobin said without even looking at you, his eyes focused on his book. though you weren’t sure if he was really paying attention to the words written there as he kept on diving in the conversation every now and then.

“and who might that be?” the dreadful task of having to pair up with the design department had been inhabiting your mind ever since it was given to you. pressure rising as you saw your other blockmates having no hard time getting themselves out there and communicating with the department they weren’t really accustomed to. you still have a month and a half, you were sure you can still make it. it was just a photoshoot anyway, featuring your partner’s designs.

“park serim,” woobin finally answered as if he had to think hard of the person’s name. “i think no one had asked him to become their partner, he’d be available to do it.”

desperate to get over with the task, later that day, you found yourself by the catwalk the design students would take. it was a path that connected their building to the main gate directly. your building wasn’t exactly far away from theirs, but still of a different building. with their building equipped with supplies and machineries for final products, yours were of computers, lightings, and screens.

you stared at your phone, his instagram profile opened. earlier, you already took the pleasure of checking his works out and without much filtering, him as well. he sure does love taking pictures of himself; something that could work perfectly with him being your subject. once satisfied, you left him a dm that was probably one of the most awkward sentences you had ever typed in the entirety of your life.

a notification popped out as you look at your screen, which was shortly followed by another. it was only of common courtesy to follow him before asking him for a favor right? you did that before messaging him and now he followed you back and replied to your dm. unlike you, he didn’t spend much time wandering in your profile. well, as if he had so much to look unto aside from the sceneries and some stories posted.

‘you were the person woobin was talking about? i’ll be out in two minutes. see you in the catwalk.’

it wasn’t too long of a duration, you allowed yourself to simply jump from a social media to another, mindlessly scrolling and liking some post every now and then. only lifting your head up when a wave of students began getting out of the establishment. most were holding mannequins with unfinished clothing attached to them, some were holding rolls of fabrics you weren’t sure what to call.

with squinted eyes, you tried to look for him among the crowds. woobin said that serim was a fashion design major, so he’d probably be holding the same thing as the other students that came out.

and he was.

leaning on his shoulder was a mannequin, asymmetrically dressed in silk. it wasn’t sewn yet, only supported by sewing pins. an arm wrapped around a roll of what seemed to be linen of pastel blue color. there was also a paper bag hanging on his arm which seemed to have some extra fabric and maybe some other supplies.

you walked towards him with a wave to which he gave you a confused look at first, the frown melting away when he realized that you were the one who messaged him not even an hour ago.

“you’re y/n?” he asked, merely to confirm.

you nodded your head and offered a hand in carrying the paper bag. something he didn’t refuse to. “so…” unsure of how to bring up the means of meeting with him after his class, your voice trailed.

“what do you need anyway?” he supported your words as he traced the path of the sidewalk. “take pictures of me or take pictures of the clothes i make?”

“both.” a chuckle left your lips, laced with nothing but sheer abashment, at the same time mentally cursing this project. you were okay with taking pictures, but the negotiation that comes with it wasn’t a task you were so used to doing.

serim hummed, saying an almost inaudible ‘i see’ before taking a big step and stopping in front of you to do a curt observation. his gaze trailing from toes up to your shoulder. “i’ll agree to do it, if you’ll model for me for a project.”

blinking your eyes multiple times, a baffled frown came to mask your countenance. “what?”

“i need a model that will wear the dress i’m doing by the end of the semester,” serim uttered nonchalantly, proceeding to turn his back to you and resume walking. “that would be quits.”

“i’ll do it,” you said, despite still being hesitant. having close to zero knowledge about how such a presentation would work, you were so close to disagreeing. but then again, it would only be a good way to repay him, right? and perhaps the other fashion design students would ask you of the same thing if you try to team up with them.

turning to look at you, there was a curve that formed on his brim. “that’s a deal then.”

how can he forget how the two of you confessed to each other?

two months. it took two months of random meet ups, daily conversations, and occasional hanging out to get to know each other. the awkward messages of checking up on each other’s side of the project turned to asking about each other’s day, sharing rants about academic life or life in general. the occasional hanging out turning to planned dates and spontaneous ones when the two of you both have the time to spare.

you’d usually stay in his unit as he worked on the dress for his project, a clothing that perfectly suits your figure. late night talks induced by the slightest energy given by coffee the two of you had clung into in hopes of being able to finish what was due.

it seemed like time flew by and before you knew it, you were in the backstage. serim was pacing back and forth, more nervous than you were. he wasn’t the one that was going to the stage, but sure his body was restless.

“are you alright?” you asked him once the two of you were left alone in the dressing room.

this was enough for serim’s movement to come to a halt. even when his eyes landed on you, it was obvious that his mind was floating. in fact, it even took him hot seconds before he was able to commit to a verbal response. “i am.”

“you are?” a smile broke out of your countenance which was eventually followed by a chuckle. “are you sure with that?”

your laughter was adequate to ease his nerves a little, a curve appearing on his lips. “i am.”

one of his classmates who was in charge of the flow came knocking to the door, signalling that you should be on standby.

“i’ll do my best,” you said, walking toward the door. it would be a definite lie to say that you were not at all nervous. a deep breath taken before twisting the knob, stopping when serim called you. it was covered with a bit, yet noticeable hesitation that it made you cock a brow for a moment.

“good luck.” it was all that he uttered, along with a gesticulation of him raising both fists. though serim’s mind spoke of different words, words he had little courage to let go of. at least not yet at that moment.

you gave him a smile, nodding your head afterward. “thank you.”

and off you go.

roaring crowds and camera clicks; the auditorium set up for the use of the fashion design students as they exhibit their works through their chosen models. formerly, you’d find yourself among the crowds, snapping pictures and admiring the clothes done by the other students. but this time, you found yourself clothed in a floral print silk-blend asymmetrical dress designed by serim himself.

the lights were blinding, being always part of the photographers, you were quite accustomed with how you were part of the persons behind the camera lense. serim was in the dressing room, watching the runway from the screen that displayed the live broadcast. some of your friends were among the crowds, your older brother even telling you before the show started that he’d be sure to take pictures of you.

fortunately, the few days of practice didn’t go to waste, no major mistakes happened when you modeled serim’s design. perhaps the only problem was you were a little stiff, something too trivial for some audience to notice.

as soon as you stepped by the backstage, serim’s proud smile welcomed you. unable to rest in the dressing room once he saw you getting out of the stage, he practically ran to meet you behind the curtains.

his eyes were filled with adoration, not just for the dress he finished making, but for the overall beauty you radiated. without much thought, he walked closer to you, soon wrapping you in an embrace. tight, yet gentle.

“you did well, y/n,” serim whispered, not letting go.

a soft chuckle was heard from you, your cheeks burning. “you did well,” you corrected. “please, it’s your design.”

“thank you.” releasing you, a smile lingered on his visage. “i’ll make you a better dress in the future.”

“you don’t have to, but thanks,” you replied before the two of you sunk into silence. regardless of how the surrounding was of heavy music and cheers, peace had found its way to emanate in the dimmed part of the area.

no words spoken, yet feelings poured when serim leaned closer. his lips easily capturing yours enough to make your heart pound in your chest, louder than it did while you were in the catwalk.

serim broke the kiss, his lips still close with yours. his eyes were of another glow when he uttered a set of words, familiar yet foreign. “i love you.”

once again, you were under his spell. soft kiss turning into a sloppy one once he guided you to a more secluded area. it would be such a waste to rip the dress off given that it was an original design, yet as the person who sewn each part of the clothing you were wearing, serim had his way to resolve the small dilemma.

the surrounding was silenced, your body frail under each of his touch, breath taken away, chest heaving. sure, it was a night you won’t be able to forget.

how can he forget about how the two of you practically lived with each other for years?

the exuberance exuded while the two of you carried several boxes into an empty unit you called home. maybe it wasn’t really about the place, but it was who you were with. his arms served as a shelter. his hand caught tears of both happiness and sadness. his lips pressed affection that no one else could offer. everywhere with serim was of comfort, of tranquility— a home.

living with another person, being under a single roof wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to adjust to. throughout the first few months of living together, your head was filled with memories of sheer trial and error as the two of you tried to learn the curves. this included adjusting for each other or at least compromising for what the other likes that the other doesn’t. silly mistakes became such a fond memory.

the smell of burnt food that wafted in the air when the two of you decided to stay on the balcony while cooking dinner. astonished by the stars and the almost endless stories that passed on both lips the meal you were preparing was left neglected. that night, the two of you shared bitter food of dark exterior, quite hard to swallow. but the laughter that filled the house after the incident lifted up each other’s mood. despite the bad-tasting meal, it was probably one of the best dinners you had in that apartment.

it didn’t end there. who would forget about the laundry disaster that rendered one of serim’s white long sleeves saturated with colors you weren’t sure what to call. the mixture of forget-me-not blue and azalea pink stood as the most distinguishable pigment along with the other colors. serim only let out of a chuckle at what occurred, even joking that maybe the two of you could start a business of dying white clothing in such a way.

the best memory thus far was a late-night run by the convenience store when the two of you were chasing a morning deadline. a grumbling stomach that broke the mutual silence the two of you exchanged, along with a suspecting look that ended up with laughter.

“let’s buy some food,” serim suggested, removing the tape measure from his shoulder and settling it to the mannequin.

you hit save on your laptop, the editing could wait for a few minutes.

pulling yourself off the chair, you gazed at him with a smile. it wasn’t a surprise that he had the same beam, as bright as the morning, regardless of how the evening was already crawling onto the whole city. sometimes, you wondered how a simple smile could give you so much energy. what kind of magic does a beam flashed by the person you love hold?

a few snacks picked up by the convenience store; a bag in his hand, your hand on the other as the two of you walked back to your unit. the evening sky and the soft gush of wind amplifying the peacefulness provided by the city. no words were exchanged, yet the silence was enough of a word.

deadlines momentarily escaping the mind as you allowed yourself to be engulfed by his presence. his soft voice breaking the silence, the phrase that left his lips drew a curve on your lips. “i love you, y/n.” you weren’t looking at him, but you could perceive the smile he had. “so much.”

“i know,” you replied.

serim’s steps became slower as he looked at you, waiting for the actual response. with a tilted head and shining eyes that reflected your figure and the street lights, his gaze didn’t waver.

a chuckle left your lips, finding yourself lost in his eyes for a moment. “i love you too, serim.” you squeezed his hand, cueing him to continue walking. “so much.”

sighing out of content, a radiant smile decorated his lips.

at that moment, the two of you wished nothing more but just to be next to each other for as long as life would grant you.

how can he forget about your first anniversary?

it wasn’t grand, just the two of you sitting by the balcony. the bouquet he bought abandoned on the dinner table as the two of you gushed over plans you were sure were realistic enough to be achieved. your eyes twinkling with mirth, a lifetime with him sure was the ideal one you’d want to spend.

“y/n,” despite being just beside you, serim called.

you looked at him with a brow raised, catching his eyes on yours. “mhm?”

a smile simply spread onto his lips before he broke the gaze. his hand seeking for an item inside the pocket of his hoodie, a small box retrieved afterward. there, a necklace sat. the pendant was of a ring that was not entirely decorated with fancy stones, rather a lone blue sapphire stone was on it.

“the pendant is a promise ring,” serim explained before scooting closer to you. his hand reached for the back of your head while the necklace rested on your skin. he locked the jewelry on your neck, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead after.

you were silent the whole time, not because you didn’t like the gesture. but because you were sure words wouldn’t be enough to express the satisfaction and light feeling that was blanketing your heart.

serim had a faint smile as he admired the necklace for a moment. just like you, his heart was in an ocean of peaceful joy. lifting his head to look at you directly, he gave your lips a light peck. “i’ll buy you a better one once we’re ready for it.”

“thank you.” your countenance mirrored the same expression serim had— of joy and serenity. “i love you so much.”

“i love you too.” serim leaned in for another quick kiss, swift yet lingering. “i can’t wait to spend a lifetime with you.”

the evening droned on and on with the two of you staying by the balcony, exchanging conversations about the future. two hearts in one home, seemingly able to find the path where both can hold each other’s hand. minds filled with dreams where the other can also be spotted. a considerably spacious studio apartment became the foundation of your plans and dreams.

aspirations that soon became the neglected cause of why your relationship with him gradually crumbled down.

how can he forget about your very first fight?

gazes that held no definite emotion, silence that cut through the air— it was all an unfamiliar experience, hard to swallow. something that you weren’t able to forget easily as it was the first time you’ve ever seen serim with such a cold expression.

the coaster of shows on the television had long passed, a few recaps played. something that wasn’t really able to get a hold of your attention. your mind drifting elsewhere and the few notifications appearing on your phone were the only ones that managed to pull you out of your daze momentarily.

“where’s serim?” for the nth time that day, you asked. the room was quiet with only a few chatters from the screen in front of you. the evening was growing older and older, but you haven’t received any message about serim's whereabouts. neither had he sent you a message the whole afternoon.

worried, you opted to stay up and wait for him. even prepared a meal that can be easily heated so he can have something to eat once he arrives in case he hasn’t eaten anything yet.

with the door clicking, you were quick to get off the couch. the faint footsteps signaling you right away.

“you’re finally home,” you said, a smile easily located on your brim. only for it to melt away at the sight of serim’s stern look. his gaze piercing through, enough for chills to trace your spine.

he walked past you, not even offering you the regular hugs and kisses he would do every time he’d arrive. all that was left were cold stares. something you attempted to break. and heck did you regret doing so.

“why haven’t you been answering your phone? have you already eaten?” the worry you had accumulated coming through in waves of questions.

a sigh was emitted out of his mouth as he went to get himself a drink. it seemed like a verbal response was not an option for him since he continued to ignore your questions. at this point, it was as if there was no one else in the room. it was like you weren’t there.

“did something happen, serim?”

a minute. it was all it took for the entirety of your relationship to come to an unknown turn. the curve strange, it crawled to the skin with such a frigid touch enough for your stomach to flip horribly.

“can you give me a break?” serim hissed, a glare shoot in your direction. his voice growing power word after word. your breath was taken away, how can words suffice to make you feel so small? he placed his glass on the sink, the item almost meeting its demise. he turned to look at you once again. “can’t you see, i’m tired?”

“i waited for you.” the words spilled out of your lips, disappointment hugging your tone.

“who told you to wait for me?” serim snarled and before you knew it, you were already standing on the same page. similar expression, different cause. yours were anchored in concern, while his were of fatigue from the whole day of heavy workload. those seemed to have lulled both of your senses, blinding each other.

“oh well, i was just worried about you because you didn’t send me a message the whole afternoon up to this point.”

“do i really need to report my actions to you?”

“no, but you have to at least tell me if you’re going home late.” your voice gradually softened, a tear held back.

no, you can’t cry. no, not in front of him. no.

“i was worried,” you broke out. but it wasn’t enough for his fumes to dissolve. like gasoline poured into flames, each of your replies only intensified the exasperation boiling in his stomach.

“i’m going to rest.” serim sigh was audible as he stormed off to your room, leaving you with tears in your eyes.

a minute.

it only took half a minute for everything to fall out of its order. that fight wasn’t the last one and each passing day, the unit you once called home was stuck with unfamiliarity.

it was no longer a home.

how can he forget about that night?

cold meals by the table had your eyes fixated on them. the date encircled in red, a supposedly special day that turned bitter. different from how you used to spend it before—of laughter and warm touches— serim wasn’t there. he was far too involved with projects that your shared unit only became a short shelter. words were barely exchanged, yet alone gazes. you still sleep on the same bed as him, but no warmth was offered.

you weren’t sure which was better, to continue living with him even if it felt like you weren’t living with him or to have him gone in your life for real. regardless of the turns that occurred, the continuous erosion of your relationship, you couldn’t find it to yourself to let go. still tied by your attachment to the former serim.

a sigh left your lips, desolated gaze trailing on the table. you tried. but it seemed like those attempts were futile. it takes two people’s efforts. you can’t revive a relationship alone.

switching place, you went to the living room and sat by the couch. the place dimly lit by a lone lampshade. the city lights filtering through the window. the air gradually thickened around you, it held your throat in a vice grip. the photographs displayed by the shelves were foreign to you, despite how it was simply you and serim. it was like you were staring at completely different people. smiles had long been taken away, touches had melted, flutters subsided— all that was left was a terrible feeling of helplessness. something that seemed to guide you to nowhere. you were lost.

before, you were sure of how the story was to be written. how the chapters were to unfold. but right now, you weren’t even certain what would be on the next page. it was like the next ones were torn from the spine, gone. oh hell, you weren’t even sure what page you were on right now or if the story was bound to be written in the first place.

serim’s arrival went unnoticed at first. only until you heard the clink of the glass meeting the sink did you turn in his direction. an empty gaze was earned and for some reason you found yourself offering him a faint smile. a small gesture packed in pain that was quick to course through your senses.

sighing had become his way of greeting. dark circles under his eyes and the disheveled look emanated how his work had been weighing him. but your mouth was closed regardless of how you wanted to speak of reassurance and praise. it was strange, the inability to speak of warm words around him. why were you so held by fear?

“serim,” you called, breaking the floating silence.

he looked at you, eyes deep like he was examining a piece of fabric. it was enough for your stomach to churn. the stillness continued after your call. you weren’t sure how to continue it; it was as if his name was unnatural in your tongue. not only was your breath sucked, but also all the possible words had dissipated.

yet again another sigh as he tore his gaze away, stepping towards the bedroom. “i’m so tired, y/n,” he uttered, setting a line for you to not cross onto. “very tired.”

resurfacing on your brim was a smile. your eyes weren’t exactly skillful of lying though as tears soon gathered on it. heart hollowed in emptiness as if a scream would echo on its wall. likewise, your voice decided to betray you— shaking. “serim, i’m getting tired too.”

for a swift moment, serim tried to come up with an answer. but just like you, comforting words seemed to be an unfamiliar language. even aware of how a look would be inadequate, he only stared at you. his eyes don’t speak of words nor radiated comfort— it was vacant. lowering his head, he carded his fingers on his hair before letting go of a breath.

serim finally stepped inside the bedroom.

and that was how the two of you parted ways.

how can he forget about you?

it went on and on in your head, the question continuously striking.

a gush of autumn breeze pulled you out of your daze. serim was still looking at you, his eyes slowly lightening with recognition. a few blinks and he spoke. “oh, wait.” he tilted his head to the side. “y/n?”

you weren’t exactly sure what kind of answer to give, but you gave it your best to offer a faint smile. “yes.”

still— despite how other people were walking on the sidewalk and how vehicles passed by the road, the surrounding seemed to come to a stillness you didn’t ask for. denying and pushing away the feelings you’ve long ago tried to bury and made yourself believe that you’ve healed from only brought a new wave of pain. as if you were its child, sadness came to hug you.

just in time, the bus arrived as if to save you from further drowning in emotions you didn’t wish to engulf you in. to your surprise, serim also boarded in. while you chose to sit somewhere just nearby the driver, he went to the last row.

usually, your rides on the way home were the most relaxing ones. a time to just stare at the window and watch the night spread into the city. it will always be accustomed by jungmo asking you on and on about how your day went and also sharing about how his day went. but your brother wasn’t around for that kind of support right now. and you can’t blame him for it. you can’t blame anyone for this unexpected meeting with the person you never knew you’d ever meet again.

the ride was sickeningly slow, all you wished was to get home and allow your voice to echo in your room. to release the emptiness if it was even possible to empty something that was already vacant. the sky held no comfort. its color dissipated and all that was left was an empty canvas that like a broken record, played memories. it was silly how despite those quick memories popping in and out of your mind, questions still managed to penetrate.

serim was living in another city, why did he ride the same bus? was he to meet his new lover? maybe to meet an old friend?

or did he perhaps mean to meet you? this was a guess you despised. the hope it brought that maybe an answer for all the questions formed that night were to be given tasted bitter in your mouth and offered restlessness in the heart.

an urge to talk to him surfaced, but then you asked yourself why. why would you want to talk to him? for what?

despite being curious about the reason why he left that night, a certain fear crawled onto your senses. the fear of knowing.

what could knowing his reasons possibly bring you?

the time when the two of you loved each other wasn’t of the best timing. two newly graduates seeking career growth, wanting nothing but to achieve various goals. those were dreams drawn with the other person placed as a part of it. however, during the process of achieving those, that same person where the aspiration was rooted gradually disappeared from the mind. the path the two of you promised to take together came at crossroads and you ended up taking something different from what he preferred to go to.

at first, there was a powerful yearning that made the two of you grow more fond of each other. but it was slowly replaced by numbness towards it, making love such a foreign word.

you understood. but it wasn’t something you had fully accepted.

a familiar shed came to flash on the window, your stop nearing. and when the vehicle finally came to a halt, you gave serim a final glance. he was looking at you, not moving from his seat. dismissing the contact, you walked down the bus and began tracing the sidewalk with heavy steps.

disappointment curled into your stomach when you arrived near your house, realizing that the recurring questions will not be answered. however, fate played its game. anxiousness arose when once again you heard your name wrapped around serim’s voice.

you turned to look at him, his lips hesitant to let go of a word.

serim was also in deep thoughts, mind all over the place despite how he already had the resolution to talk to you, not to explain and justify himself, but to apologize for the damage done.

“i’m sorry for that night,” serim began, the initial words already clinging into his chest, weighing down. “i should’ve been more honest with you and trusted you more with my struggles.”

there was nothing serim wanted but to prove himself worthy of you. achieve things that could make you be proud of him and deem him as someone who deserves you. working up to late hours, diving into designs in order to perfect his craft. the thing was, he forgot that you already loved him even when he was simply that serim. that you loved him as park serim.

blinded by the goal, the mean diminished. as he was too caught up with it, he was no longer striding towards it for you, but for himself.

“it was selfish of me to decide for something we both should be deciding for. i left that night thinking it was better that way without even considering how you will feel,” serim continued, his voice weakening. he lifted his hand as if to hold you, but stopped midway. it fell to his side as he breathed in. “i’m sorry. i’m really sorry.”

“i was hurt, but you were probably hurt as well.” the way those words left your lips ever so calmly surprised you. “it wasn’t the most pleasant experience, but i hope we both learned from it.” a smile became evident on your visage. “promise me one thing serim, do not make the same mistake with your future lover.”

“i will not,” serim replied.

both of you never really imagined the end of your relationship and as the page of it was torn years ago, an ending was deemed impossible to earn. closing a book would never be that easy, but some stories were meant to end— yours included.

“also, this is for you.” serim handed you the paper bag he was holding. “i told you years ago that i’ll make you a better dress, and here it is. i figured that i wouldn’t be able to keep the promise laced on the ring i gave you before but i at least want to have one of my promises kept.”

you looked at the item for a moment before turning to serim once again. “thank you.”

“i also want you to know that i truly loved you.”

never at once did you doubt serim’s love for you. the thing about it is that people will grow and know love from a better perspective. know how to best keep it. know how to best show it. but it will not change the fact that back then, you felt that it was love.

serim had a single flaw and that was to hold everything to himself to the point that those created a wide gap between the two of you. the distance far enough that reaching his hand became impossible despite how you wanted to hold him.

and maybe during that time, parting was the best solution. and up to this point, it was too.

“it’s nice seeing you again, serim.”

“likewise, y/n.” a genuine smile crossed his lips. “goodbye?”

“goodbye.”

tonight, you gave him a piece of your heart. it was his, to begin with. whatever he was to do with it— keep it, throw it, crush it— it was a decision for him to make. keeping something that shouldn’t be there would only bring further destruction, it’s way better to have an empty spot in your heart rather than keep a damaged one.

the breeze embraced you. the goodbyes uttered were to serve as a beginning. there were new questions that formed and you knew there were tears that were yet to be spilled. but it was a start. opening a buried wound would never be pleasant, but it was way better to open it yourself than have it bare you.

staring at the newly planted hyacinth in the neighboring flower bed, you let go of a sigh. they will bloom in the spring. and you hoped that you would experience the same.